Best Laid Plans a Let Love In short story
by Terri Botta
Summary: The Wednesday night announcement
1. Chapter 1

Best Laid Plans

A Let Love In companion story

By Terri Botta

Disclaimer: I don't own the Southern Vampires. Sole copyright belongs to Charlaine Harris. I'm poor so don't sue.

Rating: M

Timeframe: Post-From Dead to Worse

Pairing: Eric/Sookie

Summary: The Wednesday night announcement.

A/N: Here are the first two chapters of the first short story in the LLI universe. There will be one or two more chapters after these two. It's a bit of a romp, so enjoy!

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Chapter One

Sookie looked at herself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, making sure all her pieces and parts were in the right places. She'd splurged and bought an expensive push-up bra meant to show off even more of her generous natural bounty, and it was definitely doing wonders for how her cleavage looked in her white and red floral dress. She knew she wasn't playing fair, but she was pulling out all the stops tonight because it was Wednesday, the night of the announcement, and she wanted to present herself in such an alluring package that her Viking vampire would forget all about whatever horribly embarrassing dress he'd planned to put her in.

To that end, she had put on the little, white, sleeveless dress dotted with red flowers that she had worn the first time she ever went to Fangtasia. It was a crazy outfit to wear in November, but desperate times called for desperate measures – hence the bra. Her vamp was nothing if not a boob man, and hers were stunning tonight. She even sprinkled a little glitter on them to make them sparkle. Even her goldgubbe shimmered. Ha! Let him resist _**that**_.

She topped the outfit with her red screw-me heels (which she knew he would happily do quite readily) and a tight, white cardigan sweater. Underneath she had the requisite skimpy panties (red) and thigh high hose with black garters. Not that anyone but Eric would see the garters, but the little touch would drive him wild. Add a little make-up and a few brushes to her hair, and she was ready for action. Now all she had to do was drive to Shreveport and walk into Fangtasia like she was Angelina Jolie coming to screw Brad Pitt. Oh yeah, she could do that easy.

She looked at the clock. It was just after seven. The party didn't go into full swing until ten, but Eric had wanted her there by nine. She still had two hours to go. That gave her plenty of time to eat and then get herself over to Shreveport.

Eric had slept over in her hidey-hole, but he'd left before she'd gotten off work. His note had offered his condolences for not being there, but explained that there had been an issue at Fangtasia that he'd had to handle before the party, and he would see her there. That had been fine by her because it increased the shock value of her outfit if she surprised him at the bar.

She called him to tell him that she'd gotten his note, and made all the necessary sounds of a good little mate who had every intention of doing what her vamp told her to. Ha! Was he in for a rude awakening. This mate wasn't going down without a fight.

"Holy cow, woman, you are dressed to kill!" Amelia gasped, her friend's eyes bugging out as she came out of her bedroom.

She smiled and preened. "You think so?"

Her witchy friend nodded and licked her lips. Sookie knew Amelia swung both ways, and her lustful gaze was unmistakable. "Oh, girlfriend, he is gonna eat you alive."

"That's kinda the plan."

"I think you got a fool proof one there. Wow."

She laughed and reached for her coat and keys, but at that moment there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Pam standing there dressed in a burgundy and gold gown straight out of a Marylin Monroe movie. Her pale blond hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing the gold and carnelian necklace Eric had bought for her on Isle Elena with matching earrings. She looked stunning.

Sookie knew immediately that her little dress just wasn't going to cut it, and that she was in big, big trouble. Pam took one look at her and smiled, her fangs running down.

"Oh, that's rich. Just wait until Eric sees you in that," her vampire friend commented.

"Pam! What are you doing here?" she blurted.

"I've been sent to fetch you and bring you forthwith to Fangtasia," she was told, but Pam's eyes were just dancing with mirth.

"But I was going to drive…"

"My master bids you to come with me."

Read: So you will have no car in which to escape. Once again her vamp was a conniving, devious bastard who knew her far, _**far**_ too well. She gulped and weighed the consequences of refusing. If she was stubborn now, she might use up all of the stubborn points that she might need for later.

Pam was watching her, a delighted gleam in her eyes, and she just knew the female was waiting for her to dig in her heels and say no no no. The resultant phone call to Eric would be epic. Well, Pam was in for a surprise because she was saving the real fight for later – and she didn't intend to play fair.

"Let me get my purse and coat," she said, ignoring Pam's raised eyebrows and knowing smirk. The female vampire was in an exceptionally good mood tonight, but she was afraid to ask.

In short order, they were in Pam's car and headed down the road.

"So… ummm… is everything all right? Eric said there was a problem that he had to take care of before tonight," she asked, just for something to say.

"Yes, an issue with the staff, but it's taken care of now."

"Oh, good."

"Yes. Nothing can go wrong tonight. It is far too important."

Because tonight was the night all of the Area Five vampires would be told about her and Eric's bonding, and that was a big deal with a capital B.

"Yeah."

"Eric is very excited. I have not seen him this excited since the Dracula Night celebration," Pam said.

"Really?"

"Really."

She took a moment to process that, not liking what it could mean. Eric was a whirling dervish just before every February 8th. The man had a serious case of Dracula hero worship, and he fretted and fussed and drove everyone crazy with his obsession every year. Pam had nearly staked him herself last year when he'd spent a fortune on Royalty – a very rare bottled blood made with the real blood of nobility (willingly donated, of course.)

If Eric was fussing that much, she really was in deep, deep trouble.

"Oh boy," she breathed.

"Oh boy is right," Pam confirmed, grinning.

They spent the rest of the trip chit chatting. She complimented Pam on her gown and inquired as to what Eric was wearing. Pam replied that her maker was dressed in the same custom-fitted tuxedo that he'd worn in February, which almost made her start drooling right then and there. The only outfit he'd looked better in was the brown leather pants he'd worn on the night of their bonding on Isle Elena, and she wasn't letting him out in public in those.

Then she asked about the Area Five vampires and other guests Eric had invited to the announcement, and she was told that all of the major leaders of the Supe community in and around Shreveport had been invited, but not required, to attend, and that Felipe couldn't make it, but that Sandy was coming in his place. Victor, Pam said, was due in around nine.

She steeled herself and made her face blank at the mention of her and Eric's biggest problem. So far there had been no new attempts on either of their lives, but they both knew it was just a matter of time. Her biggest task tonight was to get close enough to Victor to somehow read his mind and glean the locations of his daytime hiding spots out of him. She still had no idea how she was going to manage that, but at some point during the night Eric was going to arrange for her to be left alone with Victor while he handled a pre-arranged "disturbance."

Eric was not in his office when they arrived at Fangtasia, and Pam told her that he did not want her to go into the bar until it was time for him to make the announcement, so she was left in the office while Pam went to find her master. She putted around the small room nervously, probing the bond for reassurance, but not opening it up too much because then he'd be able to tell what she was planning. He sent warm welcome and love across the bond, and a mental kiss that made her feel loved despite her nervousness.

Pam returned a few minutes later carrying a black plastic dress bag. She gulped, knowing this was it.

"My master bids you to put this on. I am to help you with it."

Pam's eyes were glowing, and it was obvious that she'd seen the dress. The look on the female vampire's face made her even more nervous, and even a little angry. She was _**not**_ going to like this dress, and she knew it. Promise or no promise, if it was going to make her look like a loose whore, she wasn't going to wear it and damn the consequences.

She gritted her teeth and lifted the black plastic to see her punishment.

Okay. It wasn't as bad as she had been expecting, or as it could have been, but it was bad enough. The really sad part about it was that it could have been a dress she might have chosen for herself under different circumstances and in a different material, but the fact that it was a low-cut halter dress made from dark red latex really killed it for her.

"No," she stated emphatically. _'No.'_

Pam grinned. "You agreed."

"I don't care. I am not wearing that dress."

She dug in her heels mentally and physically, even crossing her arms over her chest. Pam smirked and whipped out her phone.

"She is being recalcitrant. I told you so."

She felt the anger right before he appeared in the doorway, and he had his "I am not amused" look in his face. She matched it with her own and the sparks veritably flew between them. It was Showdown at the O-neg Corral.

"Pam. Leave us."

Pam bowed like a good minion. "Yes, Master," she said and vanished.

Eric stepped into the office and closed the door. She tried not to wince when she heard the lock click home, but she raised her chin defiantly and pushed out her chest. She saw him take in her outfit and felt a shimmer of lust across the bond. It gave her a little hope that she might just get out of this in one piece.

"I know what you are trying to do," he stated, stepping towards her.

"I am not wearing that red latex dress, Eric."

"Why not? You were the one who gave me the idea."

"I was referring to some fangbanging bimbo, not a lady like me."

"You think wearing that dress will make you less of a lady?"

She looked at it again, noting that it wasn't nearly as short as some of the other dresses she owned. But still… _latex?_ Did he think she was some dimwit floozy?

"Sookie. This is your punishment. You agreed to this," he reminded, his voice gentle but hard.

She turned so the light from the desk lamp would reflect off the glitter dusted on her boobs and gave him a come hither look. He'd had a plan. So did she, and this was hers.

"But you said that you had fantasies of me in this dress," she cooed, batting her eyelashes at him.

His eyes dilated and he took a step towards her, his fangs down a little and his hands loosely clawed. They hadn't seen each other since five am that morning, so it had been over twelve hours for him, he'd most likely had only TrueBlood to drink, and she knew she looked good enough to eat. Everything was stacked in her favor.

"So I do, and I will happily fuck you senseless right here on my desk, but you will come to your senses wearing that dress."

She closed the distance between them, slipping her hand under his vest and running her fingers up his chest. He did look utterly magnificent in that tux.

"Are you certain?" she purred, feeling his nipple through the fabric of his starched, white shirt. It was time to put all of her skills at seducing Eric Northman to work – overtime. She pinched the nipple, feeling it harden under her touch, and felt him shudder.

He growled low in his chest, and she tasted victory as lust came barreling across the bond. A moment later, she was on the edge of the desk, his hand under her ass, and his crotch – with its very big bulge – pressed between her legs. She grinned and reached around to grab his butt and pull him closer as she hitched her thighs around his hips. Oh yeah, this plan was definitely working.

He bent down and bit his wrist, pressing the wounds to her mouth.

"Drink, so you will be strong and able to read Victor's thoughts tonight," he ordered, his voice shaky.

She obeyed and latched onto the seeping punctures, drawing hard because she knew that would drive him insane with want. She was right, because she had no sooner released his wrist when his mouth came down on her bloody lips and his hand ripped off her panties. She grunted as he shoved two fingers into her and tried to suck her tongue down his throat. She was clinging to him for dear life, balanced precariously on the desk as he worked her into a frenzy.

_'Eric. Eric, please…'_

He groaned, pulled back his lips and yanked down the front of the dress, freeing her breasts as he took her forcefully. She cried out, arching her back, as he rode her hard and fast, shaking the desk. His mouth was everywhere, suckling her breasts, nibbling her earlobe, licking her neck, until she offered her throat and he drove his fangs into her jugular. She screamed and came, shuddering violently as she felt him reach his own climax. He tore his mouth away, his fangs dripping with her blood, and kissed her as they rode out the aftershocks. She came again.

She was panting, flush and full of satisfaction, and she smiled at him as he pulled out of her, squirming from the loss of him. Her panties were ruined, but luckily she'd packed a spare pair in her purse. When vamps were involved, it was always good to be prepared. She shivered as he licked the wounds on her throat lovingly.

"Mmmmmm," she sighed.

"Thank you, my lover," he murmured. She was feeling and hearing him very clearly, his blood dancing in her veins. It was a very powerful sensation.

"You're welcome. We both needed it."

"Indeed," he agreed, sending love and lust and joy across the bond.

"Now aren't you glad I wore this dress?" she cooed, feeling smug.

In an instant the emotions in the bond shifted, and she felt his disappointment and irritation.

"I am, but you're still wearing mine," he answered, his voice hard.

She frowned as he pulled away from her. "No."

"Yes. I will give you time to clean up, then I will send Pam back in and she will help you get into it. I understand there are some procedures involving powder and petroleum jelly that must be followed," he stated coolly, rearranging his clothing and tucking his package back in place.

He was upset with himself at his own lack of control. She felt mortified and used, but he just gave her a dangerous look.

"Eric…"

"No. This is your punishment and you are not getting out of it. You should not have even thought about trying to seduce me in order to get your way," he said angrily. "Or use an outfit you knew I would not be able to resist. Such tactics are beneath you, my lover."

The rebuke hit home and she teared up, but she could already tell that tears would fall on a hardened heart.

"I am not wearing that dress," she insisted.

"You are or I will punish you a different way, one far less pleasant than merely putting on a sexy dress that will look fabulous on you," he threatened, his face stony.

"You think that dress will look fabulous on me?" she blurted incredulously.

"Of course. I would not have chosen it if I did not think so."

"Eric, it's _**latex**_. Only hos and fetish queens wear latex."

"I told you never to refer to yourself in such a way in my presence," he snapped, then bared his teeth at her in quiet fury.

Oh, he was very angry, almost as angry as he'd been the night she'd snubbed him to go out with Quinn. More anger came across the bond, and she knew he'd caught her thoughts. She shivered, realizing that her plan had just gone horribly wrong.

"You know, Pam was so certain that you would refuse me that she brought her paddle. She would like nothing more than to see you humiliated in the same way I humiliated her. Maybe I ought to give her her wish," he said, his eyes flashing sparks.

She got a very clear image – _**very**_ clear, much clearer than she would ever, ever want to see – of Pam draped across Eric's lap, her bare ass in the air, writhing and screaming as he spanked her until she begged for mercy in front of several witnesses who were very much enjoying the show.

"You would never do that to me," she insisted, her eyes wide, but deep down she knew that he would if she continued to defy him.

"Pam thought the same thing until she pushed me too far one too many times, and I made good on my threat."

He was angry enough with her and himself not to care about the consequences of doing such a thing. It wasn't like him to be so impulsive, but she began to catch on that he was not only seriously pissed off, but that he was also feeling very betrayed. He took a step towards her. She gulped and tried to take a step back, but she backed into the desk. Fear lanced through her, and she felt him grow even angrier.

She trembled and began hastily putting herself back to rights. It was a miracle that he hadn't ripped the dress when he'd pulled it down.

"Stop," he ordered and she had to obey. He'd never been like this before, and it was really, really scaring her.

"I've told you before that I don't enjoy you being afraid of me," he all but growled.

"You're the one threatening to spank me in the middle of Fangtasia," she countered, trying to get back on an even keel when her boobs were still hanging out of her dress and her inner thighs were wet from sex.

"Only because you used me and attempted to manipulate me into getting about of a punishment you had already agreed upon. Only because you have done so in front of my subordinate, and made it appear that I cannot control you. You say you do not want me to treat you like a fangbanger whore, well you just behaved like one."

No physical blow could have hurt her more than his words, and she felt them as sharply as if he _had_ spanked her.

"How dare you," she accused.

"I dare because it's true."

He sent her an image of a pathetic woman begging for sex, begging to be bitten, simpering and using her boobs and her body to try to seduce a vampire who had seen and done it all. She was so offended by the comparison that she raised her hand to slap him across the face, but of course he caught it before she got anywhere near his cheek.

"Have I ever raised my hand to you?" he stated calmly, but he was anything but calm. He was hurt and disappointed and deeply offended.

"No," she admitted.

She was trembling in earnest now, realizing just how much she had miscalculated, and wondering how the hell she was going to get out of the predicament she'd gotten herself into.

_'Apologize and mean it. Promise to never do such a thing again.'_

Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, ruining her light make-up.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling ashamed. "I won't do this again."

He sighed and she felt the tension drain out of the bond, taking his anger and hurt with it. His relief echoed into her, and she calmed down as he drew her close and kissed her bare shoulder.

"Apology accepted, my lover. I am sorry I chose a dress that so offends you."

"But you're still making me wear it," she stated.

"I must. Now is not the time for you to defy me. Pam has seen the dress and so have others. If you do not wear it, it will seem as if you can challenge my authority and get away with it."

She nodded, understanding. She looked at the red dress again. It really wasn't all that bad. From the look of it, her boobs wouldn't show too much and it would come to about mid-thigh on her. In anything other than latex, it would be considered classy. He'd kept his promise not to put her in anything that made her look cheap.

"Not that I don't love this dress, and I would have very much appreciated your efforts had you chosen to wear it any other night but tonight," he said, stroking her breasts gently.

Now that the anger between them was settled, he was starting to remember that she was half naked. It seemed almost beyond belief that they would have sex after having such a fight, but they were both feeling the need to reaffirm their connection.

_'And make-up sex can be very sweet,'_ he sent, drawing her close and bending his mouth to her nipple. She gasped and arched towards him, threading her fingers into his hair.

He guided her to the leather couch and sat her down, going to his knees between her legs as he used his mouth on her. He'd already fed from her throat, but he knew she liked it when he bit her thigh so he obliged her and took a small sip. She shuddered and cried out, but when he moved to take her, she put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him with a look. Then, while he watched her every move with a ravenous look on his face, she turned over and presented herself to him, arching her back like a wolf waiting for the alpha to mount her. He groaned and readily accepted her offering, flipping up the bottom of her dress and gripping her firmly by the hips for leverage.

"Oooooooohhhhhhhh," she moaned as he covered her with his body, sliding his hands up to fondle her breasts as he thrust into her deep and strong, and he had her gasping and panting in no time.

One hand left her breast to slide between her legs and work her clitoris while he stroked her insides, and she didn't know which way to move – if she should press into his hand or push back onto his penis. He had her trapped between them, teetering on the edge of perfect bliss, but not letting her fall over the cliff. He held her there on the knifepoint of climax, bringing her up almost to the top then – maddeningly – backing her down. He did it four times until she was sobbing and clenching her fists with frustration.

He finally took pity on her and pulled out long enough to flip her over before hooking her knees over his shoulders and pushing back in. The angle was perfect, his Gracious Plenty rubbing her nub and striking her secret spot deep inside all at once, and she was building again, staring directly into his eyes – eyes that were so dilated with need and want that she could barely see the blue in them.

"Eric. I love you, Eric," she whispered.

That did it. He arched his neck, rolled his eyes back, and gave her one last thrust that sent them both toppling over the edge with their names on each other's lips. It was a good thing too because a moment later his cell phone rang.

"Yes?" he barked into the receiver even as she tried to quiet her panting so whoever was calling wouldn't hear her.

"Understood," he said and cut off the connection. "Victor is here."

"Oh."

He gave her an apologetic look and pulled out of her, using his deft hands to set her dress to rights, kissing both of her breasts as he tucked them back into her bra.

"I like the glitter by the way. Nice touch," he admitted.

She giggled because he had some all over his face. He grinned and preened.

"Trophies," he replied. "Should I leave it? That way everyone will know I've had you back here."

"As if the fang marks on my neck wouldn't do that for you," she commented as he used a wad of tissues to wipe himself clean before putting his flaccid member back into his pants. It wasn't like him to bite her where anyone could see.

"I did that deliberately. It is expected," he explained, using another wad of tissues to wipe _her_ clean. She shivered as his fingers brushed against her sensitive center.

"Careful," she warned teasingly.

"We don't have time, but rest assured, my lover, I will have you many, many times tonight. You have off tomorrow, do you not?"

She nodded. "And Friday, but I work Saturday and Sunday."

_'Then we will spend the night in Ruston. I will be in no mood to share you after tonight, and we are only guaranteed privacy when we are in our secret nest.'_

_'No arguments there,'_ she agreed.

He kissed her and stood, offering his hand to help her to her feet. She snickered when she realized that she still had her screw-me heels on, and they both laughed.

"I love you," he told her, drawing her close for one last embrace and kiss.

"Love you, too. I am sorry about earlier."

"It is forgotten. But wear this dress for me again, and you will get the same… deluxe treatment."

"You love fucking me in my clothes," she jibed.

"I love fucking you out of them, then fucking you again naked," he clarified with a leer.

"You just love fucking me."

"Of course. And you would be lying if you didn't admit that you enjoy doing the same thing to me."

She grinned. "Of course. Wear those leather pants and I won't let you out of the bedroom."

He laughed and stepped away. "Go on and clean up in the employee bathroom. I will send Pam to help you get into the dress."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay."

He sobered and looked intently at her. _'This is it, my lover. You know what you have to do. Our lives and our future depend on us executing our plan.'_

_'I understand. I'll do my best. Just get me alone with Victor and I'll get what we need.'_

_'I know you will do me proud.'_

He stole one last kiss before he tore himself away from her and left the office. She waited a minute, making sure he'd gotten all of her back where everything belonged, then made her way over to the bathroom in the storeroom. She was reapplying her lipstick when Pam found her. She saw the female vampire's nostrils flare from the scent of blood and sex clinging to her. Secretly, she hoped Pam would have pleasurable company tonight.

"Eric tells me you have reconsidered," Pam said carefully.

She nodded. "Yes. I will need help getting into that dress. I've never worn latex before."

Pam was silent for a moment, then she shook her head, smiling secretly. "Yes. You must powder down with talcum so it will slide on smoothly."

She gulped. "Sounds like fun."

Pam grinned. "Latex can be… very freeing."

"I'm sure," she said drolly, checking her hair before dutifully following Pam back to Eric's office.

"Eric said Victor is here," she commented once they were behind the locked office door.

"Yes. He arrived with Rasul."

"Rasul is here?" she blurted. Rasul was the only Area One vampire left alive after Nevada's take-over, although she couldn't be certain how many hadn't surrendered. Katrina and the bombing in Rhodes had decimated Sophie-Anne's entourage. It could very well have been that Rasul was the only one left.

"Yes, he is eager to see you again, it seems."

Rasul had liked her the time they had met in New Orleans, but she had no idea how he felt about her now. It was a moot point anyway, because Eric would kill him if he tried to touch her.

She didn't comment because Pam was removing the latex dress from it's packaging and preparing it to be worn. There was a bottle of talcum powder and a jar of Vaseline on Eric's desk. She gulped.

"Undress. You will have to take everything off," Pam instructed.

"The bra too?" She already wasn't wearing panties, but Pam probably already knew that.

"Oh yes. Everything shows under latex."

Pam had seen her naked before, but it was still weird getting out of her clothes with the vampire watching like she was the main course at a banquet. Oh yeah, she really hoped Pam would get some action tonight.

_'I'll see to it,'_ Eric's mindvoice said with amusement.

She steeled her face not to give anything away as she peeled off her thigh-highs and garters.

_'I did like those, by the way. Is she ogling you?'_

_'Somewhat. Like she's starving and I'm a big, juicy steak.'_

_'Hm. I think I'll give her the weekend off and send her somewhere nice.'_

_'She certainly has earned it.'_

His laughter echoed across the bond. _'You have no idea.'_

Hm, she guessed Pam was going to have a hand in the upcoming "incident."

When she was naked, Pam gave her a liberal dusting with the talcum, beginning with her boobs and working her way down. She didn't seem to care that she was getting powder all over Eric's rug, and the look on the vampire's face said she was enjoying her job far too much. Pam was very thorough – _very_ thorough – and, when she was done, Sookie felt like she was a powdered donut.

"Take this and smear it on your inner thighs. It will prevent chafing," Pam told her, handing her the jar of Vaseline.

"Do I have to?"

"You do if you don't want it to stick to you. I have heard humans complain about how uncomfortable it is to sweat in latex. Vampires, of course, do not have that problem," she replied with some superiority.

"Right," she said, taking the jar and doing as she was told.

Pam smirked. "You are being very obedient tonight. I am surprised."

Yeah, she hated to disappoint her best vamp girlfriend by not pushing Eric hard enough to make him drag her out into the bar and spank her in front of the crowd. She wondered what Pam did to make Eric do such a thing to her because he obviously hadn't enjoyed it.

_'You __**really**__ don't want to know.'_

"Yeah, well, Eric can be very convincing," she answered a little sullenly.

Pam smiled, her fangs running out a little. "I know. Raise your arms. I will slip this over your head."

She did as instructed and watched as Pam bunched up the dress and lifted it to slide over her arms and head. Then the vampire rolled it down carefully, fitting it just so as she smoothed it over Sookie's breasts (perhaps taking a bit too much time there) and patted it down her hips and over her butt. She was right, it did come down to mid-thigh, and it had a built in bra, which was a good thing.

"Ooofff," she gasped. It was tight. She felt like a stuffed sausage, and she gripped it under her arms to shimmy it into a better position. Pam slapped her hands away.

"You must be very careful with latex. You cannot tear it," Pam warned.

"What'll happen if I tear it?"

Her friend gave her an eager look, her pale eyes gleaming. "You don't want to know."

She sighed. Pam opened the closet door, revealing a full-length mirror, and she was presented with her first glimpse of how she looked in the dress. Bombshell didn't quite cover it.

"Oh."

Pam grinned, her fangs fully out now. "My master has good taste," she said, pulling out a shoebox from the closet and presenting her with a pair of gorgeous heels with red satin ties.

She kicked off her red shoes and replaced them with the new ones, letting Pam tie the ties so she wouldn't have to bend over in the dress. She looked at herself in the mirror again and frowned. Somehow, her cheap consume jewelry just didn't seem to cut it. But Pam had one more surprise, and she pulled open Eric's desk drawer to retrieve a jewelry box. Then her quick fingers removed Sookie's red ceramic earrings and replaced them with the rubies Eric had tried to buy for her on Isle Elena. She gasped.

"That sneak! I told him not to buy those!" she complained.

Pam just snickered and put a matching gold and ruby bracelet on her right wrist. There was no necklace, but she hadn't expected one. Her guldgubbe was gleaming brightly at the top of her breasts. So few people ever saw it because she kept it tucked under her clothes, close to her heart, but tonight it was on full display.

"You can either thank or punish him later."

"Hmmph," she grumped, but inwardly admitted that the jewels looked amazing. "Probably both."

Pam laughed, then pulled out a brush from the same drawer that had held the jewelry box and began to brush Sookie's hair. In short order, her long, blond locks were done up in an updo fit for a queen with little tendrils left hanging to frame her face.

"I know you said you were not a lady maid, but you're very good at this," she complimented.

"Hm," was all Pam said in answer, then whipped out her phone to make a call. "She is ready."

She felt Eric's eager anticipation through the bond, and she gave herself one more quick look-over in the mirror right before he appeared in the doorway. His pleasure was evident on his face, and in the bulge in his pants.

"You are a vision," he breathed, coming towards her with his arms outstretched. "Pam, you did an exemplary job."

Pam nodded her head. "Thank you."

He kissed her and fingered her guldgubbe, his eyes alight with love and desire.

"Would that I could skip this whole circus and just take you home," he commented, smiling.

"You wouldn't get any complaints from me," she replied.

He laughed softly, then took her hand. "Are you ready?"

"Aren't we a bit early? It's only 9:30."

"Everyone who was required to be here has already arrived, but if you would like to wait until 10pm, I am sure we can find something with which to occupy our time," he said.

Pam snorted. "I wouldn't advise anything too involved since I just got her into that dress, and it's unlikely that I could get her into it again so soon."

She blushed and Eric growled, but Pam just shrugged and whisked out of the office.

"Victor is here?" she asked.

Eric nodded. "With Rasul."

"Pam told me. Was he the only Area One vamp spared in the takeover?"

"No, there were two others, but neither came with Victor tonight."

She nodded, feeling nervous. "Did your Hammer give you any warnings?" As always, the Godtouched pendant was tucked under his shirt and out of sight. As far as she knew, the only other person to see it had been Pam.

He shook his head. "If he is planning anything, which I doubt, he doesn't have any silver on him."

"That's good, right?"

"Yes. I don't think Victor will make any moves against us tonight. Too many witnesses."

That was a small relief.

"Would you like me to get you something to drink?" he offered.

"Actually I'm afraid to eat or drink anything in this dress," she admitted. "It's so tight, I can't even wear panties under it."

He leered. "I know."

She wanted to smack him. '_So, has your distraction been put into place?'_

The leer spread into a grin. _'It is in the works, so to speak.'_

_'Are you going to give me any warning ahead of time?'_

_'No.'_

_'Then how will I know when it's happening?'_

_'You will be rushed back here and left alone with Victor.'_

She frowned because he was enjoying himself far too much. _'Maybe I should ask Pam for her paddle. You're being very naughty.'_

His eyebrows went all the way up into his hair, then he roared with laughter.

_'Oh no, my lover. You enjoy my ass too much to mark it.'_

_'The redness would go away,'_ she pointed out, smiling at him.

He loomed over her, grinning, his fangs down in his excitement. _'You think a paddling might bring me down a notch or two?'_

_'As Gran used to say, it gets to the seat of the problem.'_

_'I think I would have liked your grandmother.'_

A stab of grief shot through her, and her smile faltered. Comfort and love immediately flooded into her as her Viking bent down to kiss her hair. It seemed that he was being careful about the dress too.

"I wish she had lived to see me happy. And now, with all I know, I have so many questions, and she's not here to answer them."

"I know. I'm sorry. When Niall approached me…" He sighed. "I knew it would alter your life forever, and I did not know if it would be for the good or ill. I almost refused to do the introduction, but I knew he would approach you anyway, and I decided that I would rather be there when it happened so I could be there for you if you needed me."

She stroked his chest, feeling her love for him tingling under her skin. Even though he was a devious, manipulating bastard who had stuffed her in a latex dress, she still adored him.

"You've always done that, haven't you? You've always put yourself close in case I needed you."

He kissed her gently. "From the moment we met."

She closed her eyes and leaned close, pressing the side of her face to his chest and was rewarded with a strong hug.

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you for so long."

He stroked her back very lightly and kissed the twin puncture marks on her neck. "It is forgiven, my lover. I won you in the end, as I knew I would."

His typical arrogance made her snicker and she pinched his butt. "Ego much?"

His rumbling chuckle vibrated his whole chest, but he took her by the arms and gently pushed her away. "I know it is twenty minutes early, but if we stay here alone for much longer, I fear we will be very late."

His eyes were dilated with want and she shivered all over. "I think you might be right."

"Then let us get out of here and get this over with, so I can get you home and get some."

He seemed very pleased with himself on his play of words.

"Like you haven't already gotten some tonight, twice," she reminded.

"Never enough," he murmured, licking behind her ear.

"Eric…" she warned.

He gave a long suffering sigh and rolled his eyes as he took a step back, then he offered her his hand and she placed hers in it, and they left the office together. She stopped at the heavy door that led to the bar, suddenly afraid, but Eric looked down at her and smiled such a gentle, reassuring smile that all her fear disappeared.

"You will be safe," he promised.

"I know. I'm with you."

He gave her one last kiss and opened the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Best Laid Plans

A Let Love In companion story

By Terri Botta

Disclaimer: I don't own the Southern Vampires. Sole copyright belongs to Charlaine Harris. I'm poor so don't sue.

Rating: M

Timeframe: Post-From Dead to Worse

Pairing: Eric/Sookie

Summary: The Wednesday night announcement.

A/N: This one is shorter and it ends on a cliffhanger. Yes, I know, I'm evil, but the fun really starts now!

* * *

Chapter Two

The bar was decorated in much the same way as it had been for Dracula Night, except the color scheme was red and gold. No carnations and coffins in the flower arrangements here; the centerpieces were roses ranging from bright red to almost black. As per the usual custom, there was a blood fountain serving up refreshments for the vampires, and a small buffet for the non-blood drinkers. WDED was playing through the bar's sound system, but she knew that the Duke of Death had been hired to perform for tonight's entertainment. She'd seen the contract during one of her training sessions with Pam on how to fulfill her new duties as Fangtasia's Entertainment Coordinator.

The biggest change to the bar's décor was that one of the booths along the wall, but centrally located with a view of the room, had been ripped out and replaced with a dais. The carpeted platform was raised up about eight inches, and the wall behind it was draped with red and gold satin cloth, softly illuminated by recessed lighting positioned slightly off center. Two very comfortable-looking, cushioned chairs were placed next to each other on the dais, and each was accompanied by a low side table.

The renovation appeared permanent and that bothered her. It was as if Eric had carved out a full-time place for him to sit and survey his customers while she sat beside him, like a king and queen presiding over their own throne room, and her suspicions were proved correct when he guided her over to the dais, the crowd parting to allow them to pass. She tried not to look too much like a fish out of water as they crossed the bar, and she did her best to nod her head to the vampires that she knew, even as she was bombarded by the wild thoughts coming from vampires and humans alike. The vamp brains were still very different from the human ones, and the thoughts all seemed to run together in a jumble. The human brains were all too predictable.

_'Whore. She has no right taking the Master away from us.'_

_'Smellssosweetandluscious. Hungerfeedneedwant.'_

_'Stupid bimbo. She's not even that pretty.'_

_'Masterwouldhaveusbowtoher.'_

She tested a theory and brushed against Indira as she passed, touching the Indian vampire's hand briefly.

_'Master Eric looks so happy…'_

Yep, physical contact brought things in loud and clear. Which was both good and bad. Good in that she had confirmed what she had already suspected, and bad because now she was sure that she would have to touch Victor in order to glean any information out of him.

Eric brought her to the platform and had her step up onto it ahead of him, then he guided her to one of the chairs and waited for her to lower herself down into it. She hoped she did so with some grace and class.

"You are magnificent," he whispered.

She managed a smile and watched as he sat down in the other chair, his hand still holding hers. He looked out over the crowd, his blue eyes sweeping over the guests, and she noticed that everyone was staring at them. She recognized Sandy and Victor and Rasul. Both Sandy and Victor were dressed in almost matching suits, although Sandy's was cut for her womanly figure. Rasul was wearing a tux that looked a little well used, but he grinned a toothy grin when she nodded her head at him.

Eric waved a careless hand indicating that everyone should return to doing whatever it was they were doing before he and Sookie had come out, and everyone relaxed and went back to socializing. A buxom waitress promptly delivered a gin and tonic, and put it down on the side table closest to Sookie's chair. Sookie noticed that the girl looked unhappy, and also noticed that she leaned over facing Eric for maximum flash of cleavage in the low-cut uniform the female Fangtasia employees wore.

_'My tits are nicer,'_ she heard the fangbanger think.

She stiffened a little and felt her mouth tugging up at the corners, but Eric turned his head and gave the waitress a bland look.

"Melinda," he said sweetly in a voice that was frigid. "You would do well to remember that Miss Stackhouse is telepathic."

The girl actually gulped and ceased her boob display, casting her a terrified glance before removing herself as quickly as possible.

"You didn't have to do that," she said softly.

"Yes, I did."

"Eric… I've been dealing with crap like that ever since I figured out what I could do."

"You will not be disrespected in front of me. I will not tolerate it," he replied firmly, turning his head away in a gesture that said the subject was closed. She knew better than to argue.

They sat there for the next twenty minutes, Eric presiding over his bar, the master of all he surveyed, and she trying desperately to look like she belonged there beside him. She was nervous and sweating – she now knew what Pam had meant about latex and sweat – and she was certain everyone in the bar knew she wasn't wearing any underwear. The sexual tension in the room was almost unbearable, but she put on her best smile as she nodded to the people she knew. Calvin Norris was there, but Alcide, thankfully, was not, although she felt a number of Were brains in the crowd who no doubt had been sent on behalf of the Packmaster.

The whole thing felt like a weird wedding reception, and she wondered if that made Pam her Maid of Honor. She felt Eric jolt and swallow a laugh, but his eyes danced with mirth and amusement came bouncing across the bond. Oh, he was having far too much fun.

Finally at exactly ten pm, Eric stood. The crowd immediately stilled and the music was turned down. He offered her his hand again and she stood by his side, trying to match his straight back and proper posture, but a bead of sweat was rolling down her back, creating quite a distraction. She might look amazing in the dress, but she was really starting to understand why it was a punishment. She was squeezing Eric's hand very hard to keep from squirming, but he didn't seem to notice.

"My guests and loyal subjects, I am pleased to see you here tonight. I have asked you here so that you may bear witness to my official pronouncement," he said in a voice that was full of authority.

No one made a sound in protest, but there were plenty thinking it. She drew herself up and held her head high. She wouldn't give them the pleasure of knowing that they had hurt her. Eric drew her closer and made her take a small step forward, and she was reminded of the way he had displayed her in the dining room on Isle Elena after the whole orgy incident. She felt her cheeks flush and struggled to get herself under control.

"This woman is known to many of you. You know that she has been part of my retinue for almost three years. Her beauty and talents have graced us all, and she is directly responsible for saving your Sheriff's life, and that of many vampires both here and in other Areas, during the despicable attack on the Pyramid of Gizeh hotel in Rhodes."

There was a murmur of assent and the overall resentment in the room faded a bit as they were reminded of her service to the vampire community.

"Her bravery that day was unparalleled. She also directly intervened and saved the life of our new King when he was under attack from Sigebert, the former Queen's formidable bodyguard, thus earning her the official protection of Felipe de Castro's regime."

More murmurs, more nods of assent, and she felt like a prize dog having her pedigree read to prove that she was worthy. Good bloodlines and all. Fairy blood included as an extra bonus. Never mind the weird mind reading thing.

"You also know that I have pursued her most ardently, and I am happy to announce that she has been won. This woman, Sookie Stackhouse, is _mine_. We have blood-bonded. The bond is _permanent_. You will afford her the same respect and deference that you do to me. All those of you who owe me fealty will honor her."

With that, he spun her to face him and planted one on her that made her toes tingle and her heart race, which was absolutely no good because it only made her sweat more. Now she really did feel like a stuffed sausage, a boudain even.

_'The night will be over soon, my lover, and I will let you out of that dress,'_ her Viking comforted.

_'You're going to have to skin it off me.'_

_'That could be fun.'_

He bent her backward for a moment, then allowed her to stand up again, but her head was spinning from lack of oxygen so she ended up clinging to his arm like a love-struck groupie.

"Thank you all for coming and sharing in my happiness," she heard him say while her vision was still clearing. "We will have entertainment later, but for now enjoy yourselves and the amenities of my bar."

She had to sit down because her legs were wobbly, and he lowered her to the chair like a gallant gentleman. He was beaming, his fangs down, and lust was swirling in the bond. She quivered and tried to dampen it.

_'No panties,'_ she reminded.

He grinned. _'I know.'_

She took a deep swig of her gin and tonic, finishing it off, but she waved away a second and asked for a ginger ale instead. The waitress brought it to her along with a tall glass of steaming red liquid for Eric.

"Reconstituted AB-neg blood vine," Eric explained to her raised eyebrow.

"Oh. Um, what about the… uhh… others?" she asked.

He shook his head and took a sip from his glass. "Not here, not now, but I gave one to Pam for testing. She said it… was nearly full potency."

"Oh." She hadn't seen Pam since Sunday night. No wonder Pam was in such a good mood. She hoped that her friend had had company during her "high."

_'She did. Several willing human females who enjoyed themselves as much as my child. A good time was had by all, supposedly.'_

She coughed into her ginger ale but recovered. She both eagerly anticipated and feared her turn at seeing a vampire high on fey blood.

_'It will have to be done in the right way,'_ her Viking said, and she felt his reluctance in the bond. '_Usually fairy blood is saved for when multiple partners are available. Since you and I will be alone, I must put certain precautions into place to insure your safety.'_

She smirked. _'Don't want to fuck me senseless, huh?'_

_'Oh, I'll fuck you senseless. I'll fuck you in every room of your house, my house and our Ruston nest. You won't be able to walk for days. You will come more times in one night than you normally do in a week. All of that goes without saying. I just want to make sure you survive the encounter in one piece.'_

She quickly downed her ginger ale and sucked on the ice while Eric smirked.

The first vampire to present himself was Clancy. The redheaded vampire bowed deeply to Eric, then bowed to her.

"My mistress, I honor you. If you ever have need, call upon me and I will aid you."

"Um. Thanks, Clancy," she replied weakly, feeling very uncomfortable. She looked to Eric, who gave her a sober nod.

Clancy stood, gave Eric a tilt of his head, which Eric returned, and backed away.

"What was all that about?" she demanded in a low whisper.

"They are declaring themselves to you as per their duty."

"You mean, like, pledging their loyalty?"

He nodded. "Exactly. As my mate, you are afforded the same rights and privileges as I am. In my absence, or if I am indisposed, you speak for me and my interests."

She gasped. "Eric, no. Pam should do that. She's your second. She's a vampire and I'm not. No vamp'll listen to me."

"Then you would name Pam as your second and delegate to her, but she would be obligated to obey you."

Oh, boy. As if half the Supe community didn't want her dead already.

Indira was next, followed by Maxell Lee and a new vamp named Cynthia who'd moved up from the south. Cynthia was a very young vamp and her mind was still somewhat easy to read. She was thinking that she had best do as she was told otherwise she would end up like her nestmate, Peter, and she didn't want that.

When the young vamp was gone, she turned her head and smiled at her bonded, and asked mentally, _'Who is Peter?'_

She heard and felt the little flinch before Eric answered, '_Who __**was**__ Peter. He was a transplant vampire who moved up from New Orleans. He swore fealty to me, but he proved to be untrustworthy and a threat to you.'_

_'You killed him.'_

_'Yes.'_

The plain truth of it made her shiver, and she was starting to feel a little sick so she excused herself to go to the bathroom. Pam was at her side the moment she stepped off the dais.

"Am I not allowed to go to the ladies' room by myself?" she asked.

"No. Your position is too vulnerable right now. You require protection. You will use the employee bathroom in the back," Eric's second – now her second? – replied matter-of-factly.

She knew better than to argue and make a scene, but she was squirreling away a whole list of things she wanted to "discuss" with Eric later. Read: seriously bitch him out about leaving her in the dark about a few things. But for now she was a good little bonded, and obediently followed Pam to the back of the bar. She caught Victor leering at her as they passed, and she wondered if the "distraction" was immanent, but nothing happened as they walked out to the service corridor.

She did her business, although wiping was a tad awkward in the latex, and came out of the bathroom feeling sticky and uncomfortable.

"Pam, can we put on more powder? This damn dress is plastered to me in some very sensitive places," she complained.

Pam laughed and guided her to Eric's office. "I won't be able to do much. If I roll up the dress now that it's warm from your body heat, it will pucker and not lay right when I try to put it back down."

The female vampire gently pulled back the warm latex and sprinkled a little more talcum down the crack of her boobs, and did the same for the rear of the dress, then she knelt and reached the powderpuff up between Sookie's thighs and patted liberally up there.

Sookie had been refraining from dipping into Pam's mind, but now she lowered her shields and took a quick peek. Pam was happy, still coming down from her maker's wonderful gift. She was thinking that Eric bonding with a human wasn't going to be nearly the disaster she had originally feared, and she genuinely liked her master's bonded.

"Thank you. You're having fun," she commented to hide her transgression. Both she and Eric knew that, if anyone would figure out that Sookie could read vamp minds, it would be Pam.

Pam chuckled. "Eric is full of happiness. He has been very easy to work with these last few days. He is no longer broody and conflicted. I admit I had my doubts about this situation, but I think this will work out well for all of us."

"You aren't unhappy about my… position?"

"I know you will not abuse it like some other stupid humans would, and you are smart and entertaining." Pam gave her a wink and a wicked smile as she stood. "And you give me much to tease my maker with. It is very amusing."

They snickered like two girlfriends for a few moments, before she decided that Eric was going to go into a snit of she didn't get her butt back to the bar. Sure enough, he was waiting just on the other side of the door, and he took her by the arm for a spin on the dance floor. The DJ Duke of Death had set up in a corner of the room and was beginning to get the place hopping.

"Dance for me the way you danced in Club Dead, the way you danced in Rhodes with that telepath from Texas," he whispered.

"I thought you didn't like me wiggling my assets around," she teased, but she was already starting to swing like J-Lo. It was the dress. Pam was right; latex was… freeing.

His eyes dilated and he licked his lips. "That was before you accepted my claim. Now that you are mine, I can enjoy all of your talents knowing that I will be the recipient of your favors in private."

_'Not if you keep up this crap of not telling me everything,'_ she scolded, turning around and shimmying her butt.

She heard him growl as he gripped her hips. _'Your knowing beforehand would not have changed anything. My subjects would still have had to declare themselves to you. All that my telling you would have done was make you fretful and nervous.'_

Okay, he had a point, but she still didn't like being kept in the dark. She pressed her butt to his crotch, feeling the bulge there, and decided that teasing him mercilessly for the rest of the night might be a sufficient punishment for him.

_'Only if you can handle the consequences,'_ he shot back, but she could feel his lust and anticipation in the bond.

They danced two more fast ones, then the DJ put on a slow song, and she found herself pressed in his arms, gliding around the dance floor like they had a number of times before. His feet were sure and his cues were clear, and she felt like she was floating.

Her high came crashing down when she saw the one vampire she dreaded most seeing in the whole world, and she came to a complete halt in front of him. Bill was dressed like a Southern Gentleman, complete with dark blue frock coat and an ascot. His posture was straight and formal, and his face was perfectly blank.

She felt awful. She turned from Eric's arms and faced her ex-lover, her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Oh, Bill. I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way," she apologized, then hugged him.

The room came to a collective stop as everyone held their breath. The Master's bonded was hugging another vampire, her ex-mate no less, in front of the Master. Bloodshed was immanent, but at the moment she didn't care because Bill's mind was an open book, and she didn't like what she read.

He'd already known. Eric had left the notice for tonight's meeting in his mailbox – wrapped around a pair of her underwear. (_'You're gonna get it for that one, buster! You promised!' 'I agreed not to tell him. I did not __**tell**__ him anything.'_) She wanted to scream.

But there was more. Eric had come to him and enlisted his help. _**He**_ was to be the distraction. He was supposed to make a jealous scene and cause a tiff, but he didn't want to. No matter how upset he was that she had chosen Eric over him, he still loved her and he wanted her to be happy. He could see that she was happy, and he didn't want to ruin her moment with a big fight or make her cry or upset her in any way. (He wasn't too happy about the dress, though. He felt it degraded her. Well, she'd thought that, too, at first, so she didn't blame him.)

And he was really sick of other vampires telling him what to do. He was seriously considering relocating to South America and getting out of the US Vamp politics.

She wanted to tell him that she'd miss him, but that she understood. He'd been a pawn in a game of chess where she had been the prize, and they'd both been hurt by it. But she also wanted to tell him to stick to the plan because they needed the distraction to get her alone with Victor, and that it was okay because now she knew and was aware of what was going to happen.

Of course, she couldn't tell him any of that, and Eric's hands on her shoulders were starting to hurt, so she pulled away from Bill and gave him an apologetic smile. He smiled back, then raised his dark eyes to Eric. Eric was tense, waiting for the prearranged scene.

"I apologize for being late," Bill said gently with no hint of anger.

Surprise arced through the bond, then ire, and she hurried to intervene.

_'He doesn't want to. He sees how happy I am, and he's tired of being a pawn.'_

_'He should do as he's told.'_

_'He doesn't want to make me sad. You didn't tell him why we need the distraction. He thinks you're just being melodramatic.'_

Eric mentally sighed and regrouped. "Compton. You missed the announcement of my bonding. Sookie is now my blood-bonded."

"So I have gathered," Bill replied formally. "Congratulations." Then he kissed her hand and bowed to her. "Sookie, I am in your service. Always."

He held her hand a little too long because Eric snorted and yanked her away.

"Thank you for your _loyalty_," her bonded said, an edge to the word loyalty.

Bill didn't bat an eye. He'd decided not to play, and since he didn't know what was really going on, he didn't understand why his role had been so vital. Eric was mentally scrambling for a new plan, but he was going to have to count out Bill Compton as an accomplice.

As it turned out, he didn't need to think too hard about what he was going to do next, because at that moment Quinn came storming into the bar. The weretiger took one look at her, saw the latex dress, and went into a rage.

"_**Northman!**_ You disgraceful _**son of a bitch!**_"


	3. Chapter 3

Best Laid Plans

A Let Love In companion story

By Terri Botta

Disclaimer: I don't own the Southern Vampires. Sole copyright belongs to Charlaine Harris. I'm poor so don't sue.

Rating: M

Timeframe: Post-From Dead to Worse

Pairing: Eric/Sookie

Summary: The Wednesday night announcement.

* * *

Chapter Three

There are moments in a girl's life when instinct outweighs reason and rational thought, and, to be honest, she'd had her fair share of them. It didn't help that half the time her instincts put her in the direct line of danger and often things didn't end up working out so well for her. But at that moment she knew two things: one, all three men she had slept with were in the same room at the same time (and that had previously worked out so well), and two, if Quinn and Eric were to get into it right now, one of them would die. So she did the only thing she felt she could do; she stepped away from Eric and put herself directly in the path of the furious weretiger.

In hindsight, it was possibly the stupidest thing she could have done. If she'd just stayed put, it was probable that someone would have tackled Quinn to the dance floor, and subdued him and none of what happened next would ever have occurred. But she was so concerned with making sure no one died fighting over her, that she just didn't think it through.

"Quinn! Wait! Please!" she tried, but she knew right away that he was too far gone to even blink.

He snarled and grabbed her sides, but because he was partially transformed in his rage, his fingernails were claws and they sunk into her flesh right through the latex. There was a sickening ripping sound, and they each had one moment of perfect clarity.

_'Oh no,'_ she thought, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach.

_'Oh __**shit**__,'_ Quinn's muddled mind registered. He yanked his hands away, scratching her in the process, and tried to minimize the damage, but it was too late.

The dress exploded. Literally. It popped like a latex balloon. Pieces of it were strewn all around her; there even might have been a bit of it floating in Calvin Norris's beer, but she couldn't be sure. All that was missing was the high-pitched whistling sound of the gas escaping as the balloon whizzed around the room, but the collective gasps of the gathered crowd might have counted.

There was a second of complete and utter stillness and silence, wherein she realized that she was standing there stark naked in a bar full of vampires, and she was bleeding.

All Hell broke loose.

Someone screamed, and she realized that it was her own voice, then Eric's rage barreled into her, black and blazing and out of control. The scent of her blood had triggered every protective instinct in him, and he was ready to rip Quinn to shreds. Pam appeared at her shoulder, fangs down, eyes wild. Eric's second snagged a red tablecloth (whipping it off without disturbing the rose centerpiece) and wrapped it around Sookie's body like a bloody toga. Then she grabbed her master's bonded and carried her like a sack of potatoes out of the bar.

Sookie got the impression that Pam knew her job, and her job was to get Sookie out of the line of fire. She had enough presence of mind to cry out, "Please don't hurt him!" before Pam slammed the heavy back door shut. The last thing she heard was twin roars echoing in the bar.

She was coming down from her shock as Pam set her down in Eric's office, and, as the rush of adrenaline faded, the true horror of what had happened hit her. She crumpled to the carpet, realizing that her blood-bonded was most likely going to kill her ex-boyfriend, that everyone in Fangtasia had seen her naked, and she was wearing a tablecloth. Yeah, that sounded about right for the how most evenings in the Supe community ended, especially when she was involved.

"He's going to kill him," she whispered to herself. Eric's mind was so black with rage it was incoherent, so she didn't even bother to try to read him.

"If he does, it will be his right. The tiger committed a blood offense," Pam stated.

She looked at Pam, hating her in that moment because the female vampire didn't even have a hair out of place while she was unmitigated wreck. She started crying. Pam lifted her lip and snorted.

"I don't want that to happen. Pam you have to go back and tell Eric not to kill Quinn," she begged.

"What I have to do is stay here and guard you as my master instructed," Pam replied, her eyes focused on the closed office door.

She didn't know if vampire hearing was sharp enough to hear through two closed doors and a hallway, but it certainly appeared that Pam was listening to something.

"Please, Pam. Please."

Pam's blue eyes flicked her way. "No. But I will tell you this: it is unlikely that Eric will kill him. Quinn is under contract to Nevada, and he makes them a lot of money. Eric could not destroy such a valuable asset without having to face dire consequences. It is far more likely that Sandy or Victor will intervene and bring Quinn down."

Well, that was a small relief.

"I don't understand why Quinn is here at all. Who told him?"

"How should I know?"

Her mind started whirring as she tried to figure out why Quinn would have come to the announcement. Surely Eric wouldn't have invited him. It was one thing for Bill to be there; Bill was one of Eric's subjects and it was expected for him to attend. Quinn wasn't, and the weretiger wasn't on either of their most favorite people lists. In fact, the only ones who would stand anything to gain by having Quinn there were the Nevada vamps, and she had a flash of insight that maybe _**Victor**_ had told Quinn about the meeting.

_'Eric! Eric, it might be a trap! I think Victor is behind Quinn!'_ she sent, hoping her frantic thoughts would reach him in his battlelust-filled haze.

She got a glimpse of the fight through Eric's eyes. Quinn was still half-transformed, his canines down in huge four-inch fangs, there were streaks of blood on both men, and at least one table had been smashed. She was terrified that someone might use a bit of the splintered wood to stake her bonded, but then she saw that the table was made from metal and particleboard. Trust Eric to furnish his bar with tables and chairs that couldn't be used as weapons against him. She loved his pragmatism.

She didn't know if she'd gotten through because he didn't answer, and then his mind clouded with rage again as Quinn attacked. Desperate for answers, she stretched her mind and tried to read the thoughts of the crowd. She tapped Calvin, his mind the usual haze for a shifter, but he was coming in pretty clear tonight.

The center of the bar had been cleared, and the two rivals were faced off with the crowd ringed around them. No one was interfering with the fight because it was Eric's right to extract vengeance for the blood offense. Calvin was thinking that Quinn had been incredibly stupid to antagonize a 1000 year-old vampire on his own turf, and to attack the vampire's blood-bonded. That was just asking for trouble. As far as either of their odds, right now they were evenly matched, but Calvin knew in the long run Quinn didn't have a chance because vampires didn't get tired.

The werepanther witnessed Quinn leaping at Eric, and Eric catching him in midair and slamming him to the floor. The flimsy fake parquet cracked and splintered, and Quinn hopped up with a long piece of it in his hand. Now that _**could**_ kill Eric. She gasped, but watched as Eric rushed forward and wrenched Quinn's arm, dislocating the weretiger's shoulder. The whole crowd heard the crack, and Quinn's answering roar.

She couldn't stand it anymore so she threw up her shields and blocked it all out. Eric might be furious, but he seemed in control, and she had to trust that Pam was right, and that the Nevada vamps wouldn't let Eric kill Quinn. She picked herself up from the floor and moved to get the spare pair of panties from her purse, and her discarded push-up bra from the bag holding the clothes she'd worn to the bar. She wanted to get dressed, but she needed to inspect her wounds first. She knew she was hurt because the punctures throbbed, and she suspected that she was still bleeding.

She was about to tell Pam that she was going to the bathroom, when the female vampire made a little noise and smiled wryly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's over. Eric has won. He is demanding the tiger's surrender. If the shifter refuses, my maker may kill him."

She silently prayed Quinn would submit while pleading with Eric to be merciful. Eric was still royally pissed off, but at least he acknowledged her pleas. If the tiger would give-up, he would be spared.

"Good. That's good. I'm going to the bathroom."

She didn't wait for Pam to answer, and the female didn't stop her when she tried to leave the office, so she grabbed the bag with her clothes and made her way to the employee bathroom. Once there, she unwrapped the tablecloth and looked at her body in the small mirror, standing on tiptoes to get a look at her sides.

Quinn had gouged her, four scratches on each side, and the places where his claws had latched on were pretty deep. They had bled freely and streaks of blood had dried on her skin. The wounds were still seeping in places, but beginning to scab over. Yay for vampire blood's super healing powers. She wet some paper towels in the sink and began to clean away the blood, wincing as she touched the tender flesh. She would be sore for a while, and she wondered about infection.

Since the punctures were still seeping, she didn't want to stain her white and red dress by putting it back on, so she put on her panties and bra and rewrapped her body in the tablecloth. At least it matched the rubies, she mused with that little tingle that bordered on the edge of hysteria. She stamped it down. She was starting to go numb, the same numb she'd felt after Eric had staked Long Shadow, or after she'd made it back to the Silent Shore hotel after escaping the Fellowship of the Sun in Dallas, or after any number of times she had escaped certain death only to deal with the fall out and the licking of her wounds, both physical and mental.

Her hair and make-up were lost causes, so she took her hair down and scrubbed her face, washing off the streaks of mascara from the supposedly waterproof formula. Hah. Right. She blew her nose, and rinsed the nasty taste from her mouth, and made sure her makeshift toga was secure before deciding that she was as good as she was going to get.

When she exited the bathroom, she was surprised to find Victor standing there instead of Pam.

"Where's Pam?" she blurted before reason could shut her mouth.

"Eric required her assistance in dealing with the situation in the bar. Eric requested that I come to guard you," the dark-haired vampire replied.

For a moment, she wondered why Eric hadn't sent Bill after all that had happened, but then realized that the pragmatist in her lover wouldn't allow him to give up on achieving their main goal for the evening. As such, he'd sent Victor, and now she was up. She gave a little mental sigh, was glad to have underwear on, and made her way back to Eric's office. Victor dutifully followed.

It struck her as unwise of Eric to allow Victor to be alone with her, if indeed he had been the one to tell Quinn about her bonding to Eric, but it was too late now, and she had a job to do even if it was the last thing she wanted to be doing at that moment.

"Pam said the fight was over," she said quietly. "Did Quinn submit?"

"Yes. The tiger values his hide."

She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and slumped to the leather couch. "I'm glad."

Victor came to stand before her, an amused look on his face, as if he had found the evening's events entertaining, then she felt the unmistakable probing of a vampire mind trying to exert its will upon her.

"I can smell that you are still bleeding, my lady. Your bonded will be busy for quite some time to come. Shall I see to your wounds?" Victor whispered in a voice that was intended to enthrall.

She knew from vamp politics that what Victor was doing was a huge faux pas, and it gave testament to the other vampire's arrogance and gall. By rights, her blood belonged only to her bonded, and his asking for it was a major no-no, especially if he tried to glamour her into giving it to him. But it put her in a terrible spot. If she didn't do as he asked, then he would know that she couldn't be glamoured, and that wasn't something either she or Eric wanted the general vamp populace to know. However, if she pretended to be enthralled, and allowed him to lick the gouges, that would certainly solve the problem of how to initiate physical contact with him, and he would certainly be too distracted to notice if she was reading his mind.

And, she reasoned, if Victor was stupid enough to bite her, Eric would have just cause to kill him lickety-split.

"Thank you. That's very kind," she replied, hoping she sounded enthralled, and unwound the tablecloth enough to bare her side, the one that had the deepest wounds.

Victor gave a short, little laugh and knelt down on one knee. A moment later she felt him licking, and it was not unlike Ray Don's attentions after she'd been staked at Club Dead. He was bold enough to place one hand on her thigh, so she put her hand over his and slid it down to her knee. Under the pretense of making sure it stayed there, she left her hand in place and allowed herself to sink into his mind.

He was immensely pleased with himself and confident that, despite the minor setback he had suffered, his overall plan to get rid of Eric Northman and take the telepath for himself would succeed. He still didn't know how Eric had survived the attack he had set up, or why no one seemed to know anything about what had happened. He knew from his spies in Area Five that the Packmaster for the werebobcats was missing two of his number, and that the shifters had been killed by vampires, but that was all he knew. The lack of information was maddening, but he was adjusting.

One did not get the drop on a thousand year-old vampire easily, and Eric Northman was a crafty bastard. If he'd had his way, Eric would not have been given the opportunity to surrender, but Felipe had had other ideas, and for the moment, he had to obey them. For the moment, he would take great pleasure in stealing Eric's bonded from him bit by bit. The scene with Quinn had been his doing, although the fight had not gone quite the way he had hoped. He had not anticipated the tiger wounding her and triggering the Northman's rage, but he'd made it work in his favor. Where he had thought to show the telepath her erstwhile bonded's true colors, he'd ended up alone with her under the pretense of "guarding" her. The Viking must be losing it in his old age, because he'd just let the fox into the henhouse.

_'Her blood is delicious.'_ "You are a treasure, my dear," he said softly. "That bastard Northman dressed you like a whore and paraded you around like a trophy. Why did you tolerate such disrespect? I have heard much about your independent streak."

She looked at him as he lifted his head from her skin. "I was being punished."

He gave her a sly smile. "Now what could you have done that was so horrible as to earn you such degradation, hm?"

"I was a bad girl," she answered. He was so convinced of her thralldom that he had no idea that she was lying. _'What an arrogant ass.'_

"I cannot imagine you ever being bad, my dear. You are an angel. A vision of beauty. I would bring you to me if you so chose. Eric could not stop you if you were willing."

"Where would you take me?" she asked innocently, opening her eyes wide. They always fell for the dumb blonde routine.

Victor smiled, his fangs showing, and she heard his self-congratulations on his victory. "To New Orleans, of course," he answered smoothly.

Bingo. Perfect. Now to get him thinking about his houses… "Would I live there with you?"

"If that was what you wanted. I have a house where we could live."

It couldn't be that easy. He couldn't be that full of himself. He was like the textbook villain who told the hero all about his dastardly plan, thinking the hero couldn't possibly escape his evil clutches.

"Oooh. What kind of house?"

Victor ran through three addresses in his mind, and she plucked them right out of his head.

_'821 Perdido, 632 St. Peter, 3307 Prytania.'_

"I have a large renovated house in the Garden District. It's one of only a few authentic antebellum homes left. You would love it there. It is very beautiful."

Mission accomplished, she scrambled for a way to get herself out of the snake pit that was Victor Madden's mind. She pretended to shake her head and come out of her trance.

"Eric wouldn't like it if I went to live with you," she said, trying to sound confused.

_'She should not have been able to shake off my glamour. His control over her is stronger than I thought.'_

He had no idea.

She had the impression that he was going to try to enthrall her again, but he was interrupted by Sandy coming into the office. The female vampire took one look at what was going on and frowned deeply.

"Victor Madden, what are you doing? That is another vampire's blood-bonded."

Victor smiled falsely and bowed his head as he stood, tucking the tablecloth back around her in a gesture that was far too familiar. "She was bleeding, and I sealed the wounds because her bonded was indisposed."

Sandy cast her a dubious look. "Ms. Stackhouse, are you alright?"

"My side hurts. Where is Eric?"

She reached out and touched her Viking's mind. He was much calmer and thinking clearly, and he immediately turned his attention to her.

_'My lover?'_ he questioned, and she could feel him making his way to the back of the bar.

"Your bonded is in the bar. Do you need him?" Sandy answered.

"I know he'll want to see my wounds."

"I will tell him that you wish to see him."

"He's coming. He's calm now."

"You can feel him?" Sandy asked.

She nodded.

"Your bond is as strong as Felipe said it was," the female vampire commented.

Anything that might have been said to that was cut off because Eric appeared in the doorway. He looked awful, his beautiful tux ripped and splattered with blood, and she mourned the loss of the wonderful suit. He took one look at Victor standing so close to her and lifted a lip, showing fang. Victor smirked and stepped aside as her Viking strode over to her and began pulling away the cloth to inspect her injuries.

"Let me see. How bad is it?"

"It's not bad. Victor sealed the wounds," she said innocently.

"_**Victor**_ sealed the wounds?" he repeated, looking at the gouges, then glaring at the dark-haired vampire.

She opened her mind and showed him what Victor had tried to do. Eric's thoughts clouded with rage again, but she tried to calm him.

_'I will rend him limb from limb for that insult!' _

_'I had to pretend to be glamoured, but I got three addresses.'_

"You _touched_ her? You _**glamoured**_ her?" he accused.

"She was bleeding and you were busy. You asked me to look after her. I was doing as you requested," Victor replied.

Eric growled, low and menacing, and it looked as if he was going to attack. Victor smirked and almost seemed to be inviting a confrontation, but Sandy intervened.

"You can file a formal complaint regarding his behavior," Sandy stated.

_'Stupididiot. Neverlikedhim. Alwaysconnivingandtakingrisks. Loosecannon. Felipewillhavetodosomething,'_ she picked up from Sandy's mind, and she realized that the female was thinking about Victor. It sounded like Victor had his own enemies in Felipe's court.

"I intend to," Eric snapped angrily, then turned to her and touched her cheek gently. "My lover, there are a few more things I must do. I will send Pam back to you, and she will help you get dressed."

She wanted to ask if Quinn was all right, and what was going to happen to him now, but she kept her mouth shut. If she questioned Eric in front of Sandy and Victor, it would make it look like Eric didn't have control over her.

_'The tiger is fine. He was told many lies that made him very angry, but I beat him and now he will beholden to me.'_

_'Victor was behind it.'_

_'I am not surprised.'_

"Okay. But I can't put my white dress back on, it'll get stained."

He kissed her forehead, and she actually resented the whole "sweet little human" thing, but she swallowed it. Eric's mental laughter made her feel better.

_'Sweet little human. Oh, I like that.'_

_'Hmmph.'_

"Pam will bring you to me when you are dressed," he said, then he gave Sandy and Victor a significant look and waited for the two of them to leave the office ahead of him.

"I will see you soon, my lover," he whispered as he closed the door.

Per Eric's instructions, Pam entered less than a minute later.

"My master is furious again and filing a formal complaint against Victor Madden. Is everything all right? Did he harm you?" Eric's second questioned.

She gave Pam a wry smile and filled her in on what Victor had done. Pam listened, but her brow creased.

"But our glamour doesn't… Oh. Oh, I see."

They shared a conspiratorial look and Pam chuckled. "Victor Madden must have a death wish."

"Eric said you were going to help me get dressed," she said with a smile, then plucked at the makeshift toga and joked weakly, "I hope you can do something with a tablecloth, y'know Dining Room Chic or something like that."

Pam laughed and shook her head. "I'm good, but I'm not that good. Maybe Indira can make a sari out of it."

"Well, we'll have to come up with something. I can't wear my white dress because it'll get stained, and I am not going out there in one of Eric's shirts."

Pam smirked and went over to the closet. "That'd be something, but there will be no need for that," the vampire informed, pulling out a blue dress bag from the rear of the closet. "Eric never intended for you to wear the latex all evening. He planned to have you change into this at midnight."

She looked at the clock on Eric's desk. It was almost twelve, so she guessed it counted. She waited as Pam lifted the blue plastic to reveal a magnificent red and gold gown. It was matte satin with gold brocade and a sweetheart neckline, and she gasped when she saw it.

_'Oh my…'_

Pam lifted it off the hanger and held it up as she shucked the tablecloth and shimmied under it. The fabric slid over her skin, and Pam made sure it was positioned correctly before lacing up the corset ties on the back. The sleeves were long but snug, and they ended right at her wrists. She pulled the one sleeve back a little to show off the ruby bracelet. The bodice hugged her waist and accentuated her boobs (especially with the push-up bra), but the skirt was long and flowing with a panel of gold brocade down the front. It touched the tops of her shoes, just short enough to make sure she didn't trip on it.

There was nothing demeaning or slutty about this dress; it was pure class, and she looked like a queen in it. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she realized that Eric had bought the rubies for _**this**_ dress, not the skanky latex halter dress, and she berated herself for ever doubting his intentions.

_'I trust you like my second choice much better than my first?'_ her Viking sent, his thoughts bubbling with amusement.

_'Eric, it's gorgeous.'_

_'I cannot wait to see you in it, my lover.'_

_'And get me out of it,'_ she teased.

_'That goes without saying.'_

Pam pulled out a satin and lace stole with gold trim and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Do you want your hair up again?" Pam asked as they both looked at her in the mirror.

"Can we do something with it that shows off the earrings?" she answered, adjusting her guldgubbe to rest just so against the top of her breasts.

"I can pull it back and gather it at your neck."

"That would be good."

Pam nodded and got to work, using the elastic ties that had been part of the previous updo and a set of hairpins that were in Eric's desk. What a pack of hairpins was doing in her Viking's desk… she wasn't asking, and it took Pam all of two minutes to pull her hair back into a loose chignon.

Her make-up was in her purse, so she did a quick once-over with a powder puff and dabbed on a bit of mascara, blush and lipstick. She was all for the natural look, and she knew Eric preferred her that way, too.

"Eric said Quinn was okay," she said carefully as she swept the rouge brush over her cheek.

"He has some injuries, but none permanent. It is as I thought. My maker did not want to do the tiger irreparable harm," Pam replied.

"He said Quinn would be beholden to him now."

"Yes. Because Quinn attacked you, Eric can claim right of retribution."

"But he didn't mean to hurt me," she argued. It was true. In the brief seconds when she could read his enraged mind, all that Quinn wanted was to get her away from Eric because he thought that Eric had forced her to rebond with him even after what had happened in Rhodes. And, of course, when he'd seen her in the latex dress…

"That doesn't matter. The result was the same."

"How bad is the bar?"

"Quinn will be making recompense for quite some time."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not as bad as it could have been, and I never liked that dance floor anyway."

"Where is Quinn now?"

Pam shrugged. "He is still in the bar, under guard. Eric thought that you might want to see for yourself that he is not badly injured. He knows you hold the tiger in some regard."

She nodded, touched by Eric's thoughtfulness. "Yes."

"I heard about what he did: aiding the Nevada vampires and feeding them information about us, and you, to Felipe," Pam stated with some contempt. "Honestly, Sookie, I do not understand why you cling to these people who use and betray you, and yet you gave my maker such a hard time when he has never done you a bad turn."

She sighed. "I can't explain it, Pam. I can't hold Quinn responsible for what he did. They had his mom and family is family. I might have done the same thing if one of them had my brother."

"The same brother who forced you into breaking a friend's hand?" Pam asked blandly.

She blushed and looked away. "Like I said, I can't explain it."

"Hmm. Are you ready? You look ready."

She gave herself one more look in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door, turning this way and that just to see the elegant satin gown swirl around her legs.

"Yeah, I think so. Do you think Eric will like how it looks on me?"

"I think my maker will be very pleased," Pam answered, her own fangs running down a little with excitement.

"Not nearly as pleased as he is going to be later," she commented, smiling at her reflection. Pam was at her shoulder, and the two of them looked like Maid and Matron of Honor – with fangs.

"Very well then, shall we go? We don't want to keep the master waiting."

She shook her head and gave a dramatic flourish to her forehead. "Oh no, we'd never want to do that."

Pam snickered and opened the office door, and she followed the female vampire back out to the bar.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Best Laid Plans

A Let Love In companion story

By Terri Botta

Disclaimer: I don't own the Southern Vampires. Sole copyright belongs to Charlaine Harris. I'm poor so don't sue.

Rating: M

Timeframe: Post-From Dead to Worse

Pairing: Eric/Sookie

Summary: The Wednesday night announcement.

A/N: Happy New Year. :) Enjoy.

Chapter Four

As he stood there surveying the wreckage in his bar, he wondered how everything had gone to hell so quickly. The evening had been progressing according to plan, with a couple of little unexpected extras tossed in (his lover wearing the tight little white and floral dress was a pleasant surprise even if her manipulation of him wasn't, and the two rounds of sex had been nice too.) All that had been left was the little distraction he'd set up with Bill Compton to instigate his bonded being left alone with Victor, and the plan would have been complete.

It wasn't supposed to be a big thing, just a little spat about who loved Sookie more and who had bonding rights because Compton had begun the blood-bonding process with Sookie, but had never completed it. Nothing major, no bloodshed, no damage to his precious bar. If everything had gone according to plan, the evening would have proceeded without incident, Sookie would have gotten the information they needed from Victor, and he would have enjoyed getting his mate out of the latex dress at midnight.

He'd planned to get it off of her in much the same way that it had been destroyed, but behind closed doors, and with hopefully another round of very hot, very satisfying sex because she'd been teasing him relentlessly and keeping him hard for the better part of an hour. He'd seriously been rethinking who was punishing who, actually. Not that the dress had been any real punishment. By the time she'd been in it for forty minutes, she'd been enjoying herself and what the latex did for her – as he had suspected she would. His bonded liked to show off her assets, and the dress he'd chosen wasn't nearly as revealing as some of the outfits he'd seen her in. Even the dress she'd worn to Fangtasia was shorter and showed more cleavage.

He'd known her objections had been based on principle and some silly outdated social mores against overtly sexy clothing on ladies. Once she'd gotten over her moral dilemma, she'd loosened up and enjoyed herself. And, he admitted, if she had truly and deeply objected to the dress, he would have relented and not forced her to wear it. It was all supposed to be in good fun anyway, and if it would have damaged her faith in him, then it wouldn't have been worth it.

As a general rule, he wasn't overly fond of latex. As sexy and alluring as it might be, the stuff reeked to vampire noses, especially if the person in them was prone to sweat. Then the combination of the latex mixed with the perspiration created an odor not unlike sewage on a hot day. He remembered the day his neighbor's sewer line had cracked and spewed shit all over the lawn. It had stunk up the whole neighborhood. Some of the fangbangers who wore latex and rubber frequently often smelled the same way, and to make it worse, they tried to cover up the stench with perfume and powder. Flowers and sewage. Yum. What a turn on.

God forbid any of them be on their period and bleeding into the little pads. He had no idea why fangbangers thought that smell was appealing to vampires. If a woman presented herself to him on a hot August night dressed in latex, powered down with scented talc, wearing too much perfume and on her period, she was far more likely to end up in the bar's deep sink they used for washing glassware than in his lap. He might even shove her into the employee shower and turn the water on cold.

So getting his mate out of the latex quickly had been his plan all along, not only for her comfort, but for his. She'd already begun to sweat in the dress, and the scent was wafting into his nostrils and making his nose cringe. Her morning breath actually smelled better. He'd very much been looking forward to joining her in his office after he'd "dealt with the problem," thanking Victor for guarding his mate, and then ripping the latex off of her before having her on his desk again, or on the couch, or both if time permitted.

He'd been entertaining himself with fantasies involving her magnificent breasts with those pert nipples just begging for his attention, and her luscious, soft thighs spread just for him, her delicate perfume coming from her center, the sweet taste of her on his tongue. He'd been practically vibrating with sexual tension when Compton walked in, and his bonded saw her ex. He'd been so ready to move the evening on to the next level…

But then Compton had decided to be an insubordinate asshole and not fulfill his role in the plan. Then Victor (oh yes, he'd known it was Victor right away) had gone and tipped off the tiger as to what was happening, and the overgrown furball had to crash the party. And _**then**_ the son of a bitch had the gall to grab his bonded and cut her, drawing blood and busting her dress in the middle of the fucking bar, making his bonded stand there naked until his child had the sense to cover her with a tablecloth. That was good thinking on Pam's part because he'd been too busy envisioning skinning a weretiger to think of practical things like covering his mate. That spoke volumes for his mental state.

Not that anyone in the bar hadn't seen and done it all at some point. Vampires were inured to nudity, and Weres… they were used to seeing each other naked every full moon, so really Sookie didn't have anything no one had seen before, and he'd make sure she understood that if she was really upset about it. He was much more upset about the blood offense, and the fact that his entire evening had just been blown to hell.

The fight had been too short to be satisfying, and he'd known that he couldn't really hurt the tiger permanently for a number of reasons, so that took some of the fun out of it. Still, dislocating the fucker's shoulder had had a nice crunch to it that made his undead heart skip a nonexistent beat, and the resulting scream had been music to his enraged ears. Nothing thrilled him more than to hear the agonized cries of his enemy, and he imagined Victor's screams as well. Victor he would kill with great pleasure.

When it was all over, and the tiger had submitted – under pressure from Sandy who insisted that, if he continued to fight, he would be indentured to Nevada for another sixty years – his bar had looked like a war zone and his dance floor had been smashed to pieces. Pam would be pleased; she'd never liked it to begin with. He'd turned to Victor and put on his best smile, asking him if he would be willing to guard Sookie while Pam came out and helped with the clean-up.

"Why not ask Bill Compton to be her minder?" the Sheriff of Area One had asked shrewdly.

"Because I've had enough of my bonded's exes taking liberties with her. With you, I know you will be a gentleman."

He'd said the words sweetly, with just enough deference to appear genuine, even though it killed him to say them, and he nearly choked on the word "gentleman." He hadn't wanted to do it, and he hoped his mate would understand, but their overall goal was too important for them to miss the opportunity for her to pick Victor's brain. So even though he could feel that she was upset and worried and hurting, he also knew that she had a job to do, and he hoped she would do it. Both of their lives depended on it.

And so, he had sent Victor into their trap in hopes that his lovely mate would fulfill her duty and get the addresses they needed. He had no doubts that it would take more than one night to get them all, but they would get as many as they could and plan another attempt to get more later. If Victor was anything like him, he had at least six nests, one or two that were completely secret like his and Sookie's Ruston nest, and those locations would be harder to glean. But no one was as good at her job as his mate, and he had complete confidence in her ability to filch the information out of Victor's mind.

What he hadn't been expecting was for Victor to push his limits so much so soon. He'd been seeing to the tiger's proper restraint, making sure his hands were bound in front of him instead of behind to give deference to the dislocated shoulder (not that he cared if the asshole was in pain, but it would piss his mate off if she thought he was being deliberately cruel,) when he felt his mate's mind brush against his. Her thoughts were tentative and wary, and he felt a pang of self-loathing for being so enraged that she'd blocked him out.

_'My lover?'_ he replied, probing the bond.

He felt her need of him, and her anxiety, and he immediately ended the very enlightening conversation he'd been having with the furball. In between expletives and insults, the asshole had actually been very informative. Apparently, someone (probably Victor) had told the tiger that Sookie was being forced into another blood bond like she had been in Rhodes, and that he (Eric) was taking her against her will.

Now if the tiger had been anything but a drooling idiot, he would have known right away that such a thing was preposterous, but there was no accounting for the lack of Were intelligence. But still, to come there on the night of his announcement, and hurt his bonded, and wreck his bar – that took balls.

He was out of time, however. His mate needed him, and he could not resist her clarion call. He turned his back on the tiger, resisting the urge to kick dust in the shifter's face, and strode to the service exit. He found his bonded huddled on the couch in his office, still wrapped in the tablecloth, with Sandy looking very irate and Victor standing too close to his lover and looking far too pleased with himself.

His mate's blue eyes seared into him, vulnerable and shaken, but his bonded's will was steel, and he knew she would be all right. In that moment, he got a glimpse of himself though her eyes and he saw how ragged he looked. His lovely Armani tuxedo was ruined, but no matter. He had a spare at home, and there was a clean, freshly pressed formal shirt hanging in a dry-cleaning bag in his car, but at the moment his clothing was the least of his worries. He lifted a lip at Victor and showed some fang. Sandy looked nervous and tense. Something bad had happened, something he was not going to like.

He made his way over to his mate, making little fussing noises as he gently pulled back the makeshift toga.

"Let me see. How bad is it?"

He could smell her blood, but also the scent of Victor on her in places where his scent should not have lingered. The gouges were deeper than he expected, but since he had every intention of bathing them in his blood until they were gone, they were of no consequence.

"It's not bad. Victor sealed the wounds," she said innocently.

The statement was loaded, and he met her eyes, his fangs running down again as the snake of rage began slithering into his brain.

"_**Victor**_ sealed the wounds?"

His voice was almost a growl, then his vision began to go red as he began to understand the true extent of Victor's transgressions. The miserable bastard had tried to glamour _**his**_ bonded, and Sookie'd had to pretend that it had worked. Then he had _**licked**_ _**her!**_ He had _**licked**_ his blood-bonded with his tongue! There was no depth to the well of hate that rose inside him, the pure fury of vengeance. He felt his bonded reaching for his tendrils of sanity, scrabbling for calm, but he shoved her mentally away. He was in no mood to be "handled."

_'I will rend him limb from limb for that insult!' _

He rounded on Victor, eyes blazing, hands bent into claws.

"You _touched_ her? You _**glamoured**_ her?" he seethed.

"She was bleeding and you were busy. You asked me to look after her. I was doing as you requested," his enemy answered, his voice too smug and full of condescension.

The arrogant imbecile actually thought he'd _**glamoured**_ Sookie! He had no idea that, not only had she not been under his thrall, but that she'd also been rummaging around in his brain plucking the locations of his homes right out of his head.

It took everything he could not to laugh as he gleefully imagined gouging out Victor's eyes and ripping the smug smile right off his face. He was about to make good on his fantasies when Sandy stepped between them.

"You can file a formal complaint regarding his behavior," she said, her hand up in a halt motion.

She was his superior and he had to obey her. Part of him wanted to damn it all and just kill them both, but that would bring down the wrath of the King, and most certainly end his rule as Sheriff and possibly his life. He snarled, backing down, although he did notice that Sandy didn't appear to be too happy about protecting Victor, and his chess master's head began rearranging the pieces again.

"I intend to," he stated harshly. He was coming down from his rage, but the room was still too close, and his enemy still too near. He forced himself to be calm enough to turn to his mate and reassure her. He touched her cheek, rumbling a little in the way he knew she found comforting. Her skin was warm beneath his hand and she closed her eyes at his caress.

Her mind was whirling with worries and concerns, mostly about the furball and his welfare, and while he would have loved to tell her that the tiger would be made into a new rug, he couldn't.

_'The tiger is fine. He was told many lies that made him very angry, but I beat him and now he will beholden to me," _he sent reassuringly.

_'Victor was behind it,' _she warned.

_'I am not surprised,'_ he answered, then said aloud, "My lover, there are a few more things I must do. I will send Pam back to you, and she will help you get dressed."

She looked at him, uncertain. "Okay. But I can't put my white dress back on, it'll get stained."

He smiled. She didn't know about the other dress he'd bought for her; the gown of red and gold that would make her look like a goddess come to earth. How surprised she was going to be. He bent down and kissed her forehead, petting her hair tenderly, and amused by her irritation at being treated like a "sweet little human."

_'Sweet little human. Oh, I like that,'_ he chuckled.

_'Hmmph,'_ she complained, but it was a lovely sound.

"Pam will bring you to me when you are dressed," he told her, then stepped back and gave Sandy and Victor a look that said he was not showing his back to either of them, nor was he giving them any opportunity to be alone with his bonded for even a second. They took the hint and walked out of the office ahead of him.

"I will see you soon, my lover," he whispered as he closed the door.

Once back in the bar, he let his fangs down again and stalked over to Sandy to begin the formal procedures for filing an official complaint against Victor Madden. He didn't expect Victor to be alive long enough for an arbitrator to make a judgment on the complaint, but formalities needed to be followed regardless.

He saw that the bar had been mostly cleaned up and that someone had seen to the welfare of the tiger in his absence. He gave Pam a look, and she knew to come to his side immediately.

"Master?" she addressed, knowing that she was in front of one of his superiors.

"Go to your mistress and help her with her clothing," he said tersely.

"The red gown, Master?"

"Yes."

She nodded her head and flitted out of the bar. Once she was gone, he felt that the hellish part of the evening was finally over, and now they could get back on track with the entertainment he'd been planning. Just as the spectacle of Sookie staking the fake Dracula on Dracula Night had not put an end to those festivities, neither would the debacle of tonight end the party early. The Duke of Death was already resetting up his DJ equipment, and the debris from the fight had been cleared away. The only residual signs of damage were the three missing tables that were smashed in the fight and the ruined parquet dance floor that was most certainly now in many splintered pieces stuffed in the dumpster behind the bar, and he nodded his head in approval. His staff was good.

Sandy was pulling out some forms from her briefcase, Victor had wisely made himself scarce, and Felicia and Clancy were doing an exemplary job of getting the crowd back in the mood. While he was filling out the complaint and grievance forms (in triplicate!), Indira came up to him with a glass jar full of red scraps.

"We didn't know what you wanted done with them, Master," his little Indian vampess explained, presenting him with the jar.

Ah. The remnants of Sookie's dress.

"Put it in my car. I will take it home and dispose of it as your mistress sees fit," he instructed, handing her his car keys. "Also bring me the dry cleaning bag that is hanging behind the driver's seat.

Indria bowed. "Yes, Master," she replied obediently and took the jar away, presumably to follow his instructions.

"Your staff is efficient and well-behaved," Sandy commented.

"Yes," he answered. "But you already knew that from your previous trip here."

"Yes, but they could have been on their best behavior because you were hosting your new king. Now I see that they are like this all of the time. You should be congratulated. You are indeed an excellent Sheriff."

"I treat my people fairly, punish those that cross me, and do not make unreasonable demands of them. It is not difficult, merely practical. Some Sheriffs can't handle the power or the responsibility," he explained, signing the forms with a flourish and handing them back to her.

"Hence why they are no longer Sheriffs," Sandy commented, putting the forms in her briefcase. "I will fax these to the home office in Vegas tomorrow night. I am assuming that you want the hearing to be in Louisiana?"

"Yes, but not in New Orleans. That is the accused's Area."

She nodded. "Baton Rouge then."

"That is acceptable."

"Good. Nice party, by the way."

"Thank you. Will you stay for the rest of it?"

"No. I think I will take Victor and Quinn with me and call it a night."

He started and cast a glace to where the furball was still tied up on the dais. If Sandy took him out of there before Sookie had a chance to speak with him…

"Are you willing to wait until my bonded speaks with the tiger?"

"For what reason?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"They were once… dating. It is likely that he will tell her why he came here and how he knew about the announcement tonight."

"The tiger is your bonded's ex?" she questioned with a hint of amusement.

How could Sandy not have known that?

"Yes. I thought you knew," he replied.

"I knew they shared some connection. I did not know that it was a sexual one."

He bit back the curse and rush of jealousy to make his face appear impassive and bored. "Yes, well, she came to her senses, obviously."

The female gave him a sly smile. "Obviously. If your bonded will be ready within the next twenty minutes, I will sit and have a drink, and allow her to speak with him before I take him away. Needless to say, there is much he will have to make up for."

"I will send you the bill for the damages to the bar."

"Of course."

"I may want some of the reparations in money and some in labors."

Sandy nodded. "Agreed. We will work out the details later."

He bowed his head. "Of course. Thank you."

He knew the moment his lover saw the dress because he felt her pleasure and happiness, and he had to turn his face away from Sandy before his secretive smile gave him away.

_'I trust you like my second choice much better than my first?'_ he sent to her, echoing her pleasure back at her.

_'Eric, it's gorgeous.'_

His smile widened, but he hid it just as Indira came back with his keys and the pressed shirt.

_'I cannot wait to see you in it, my lover.'_

_'And get me out of it,'_ she teased.

_'That goes without saying.'_

He stripped off the ruined tuxedo coat, shirt and vest, and donned the clean shirt with no care as to who saw him or what anyone thought. He dumped the discarded clothing into the large trashcan behind the counter. Then he took a seat at the bar, brushed his fingers through his hair, retied his bowtie, and awaited the arrival of his queen dressed in her finery.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Best Laid Plans

A Let Love In companion story

By Terri Botta

Disclaimer: I don't own the Southern Vampires. Sole copyright belongs to Charlaine Harris. I'm poor so don't sue.

Rating: M

Timeframe: Post-From Dead to Worse

Pairing: Eric/Sookie

Summary: The Wednesday night announcement.

A/N: This is the final chapter of Best Laid Plans. Look for the next installment in the Let Love In universe, "Life and Death in New Orleans," coming soon.

Also, I will be on the Loving True Blood in Dallas blogtalk radio show on Monday, January 5th at 9pm CST. Call in or log on: lovingtruebloodindallas . blogspot . com (remove spaces)

* * *

Chapter Five

The room grew much quieter as she followed Pam back into the bar, and she tried not to blush as she felt all eyes turn to her as she made her entrance. She gathered her poise and held herself straight with her shoulders back and her head high. She remembered all of Gran's lessons on the bearing of a proper lady, and she was pretty sure she could have balanced _**two**_ books on her head with the way she was holding herself so erect and proper.

She paused at the edge of the counter, getting her bearings and taking in the room. She noticed that all of the human waitstaff were conspicuously absent, and she figured someone had sent them home when the furniture started flying. She lowered her shields enough to take a sample of the overall mood, and she was pleased by what she heard. Where her latex dress had incited lust and jealousy, her new red and gold gown inspired awe and respect – even from the vampires. They were all thinking that she looked like a highborn lady, stunning and deserving of their admiration, and that she finally looked worthy of a vampire as powerful and old as Eric Northman.

Speaking of her bonded, she turned her head and scanned the room until she found him. He was standing about fifteen feet away, next to the bar, and Sandy was beside him looking decidedly surprised. He'd changed his shirt and retied his bowtie, and his hair was a golden mane that fell loose over his shoulders. He was looking at her with such love and need that it almost made her knees buckle.

_'If it would not be sacrilege, I would say that you rival Helen herself for your beauty. You are magnificent, my lover,'_ he sent as he extended his hand to her.

She smiled at him and moved to his side, keeping her steps small and light because the dress made her feel regal, and princesses did not stomp around like barmaids. Her hand slid into his and he drew her close as she tipped up her head for a kiss.

"You look amazing, my lover," he whispered.

She fingered his bowtie. "You changed your shirt."

"I had the spare Bobby picked up from the cleaners in my car."

"How fortunate of you to have been so prepared," she teased.

He grinned, his eyes bright with humor and desire. "I'm always prepared."

He turned and presented her to Sandy, and she bowed to the female vampire in a way she hoped was formal enough for vampire protocol.

"I am glad to see that your brush with the tiger did not ruin your mood for the night," Sandy commented, smiling at her appreciatively.

She gave the other woman one of her signature grins, the one she got when she was stressed and just wanted to bolt or slap someone silly. "Well, yes, it takes more than a few scratches to keep me down. Last time it took a stake."

Eric's hand on hers tightened in warning, and she leaned closer to him for support. He took the hint and slid his arm around her.

"My bonded is referring to an incident in a night club in Jackson where she was injured while trying to prevent one of those zealots from the Fellowship of the Sun from killing Russell Eddington's second in command. The bastard staked her instead," he explained with no small pride.

Sandy looked impressed. "Betty Jo?"

Eric nodded, and Sandy looked even more impressed. "So that's why she favors you so much."

She shrugged. She had seen very little of Betty Jo since the last time she'd been in Jackson so she had no idea what the female vampire thought of her.

"Dear One, Sandy will be leaving soon and taking Mr. Quinn with her. I thought perhaps you might speak to him and find out why he came here tonight in such a rage as to hurt you and wreck my bar," Eric said to her reasonably.

There were so many things she wanted to say in response, but none of them were the least bit appropriate for the company. She was acutely aware that Sandy was listening to every word they were saying with intense interest, and it could not appear that Eric was subdued by her in any way. Regardless of what she would have said to him if they were alone, she had to uphold the image of her submission to him as her bonded.

_'It's the best I can do for you, my lover. She wanted to take him out of here before you even had a chance to see him, but I asked her to wait on your behalf.'_

"Thank you. That was very kind of you to allow me to speak to him. I will do what I can to get the information from him," she replied.

Eric gave her an indulgent smile, but his eyes were (slightly) apologetic as he led her over to the dais where Quinn was being kept under guard by Rasul, who grinned appreciatively at her as he watched her approach. She noticed Victor standing off to one side, discretely out of the way, but intensely interested in the proceedings. She caught a glimpse of her former boyfriend as the crowd parted to let them pass, and she swallowed the cry of dismay that rose in her throat.

Quinn was on his knees, trussed with a heavy chain that looped around his neck, wound down around his forearms, through his legs and around his waist. He was battered and bruised, and his right shoulder was obviously dislocated, but he looked up at her as she approached, and she saw that, while he might have been beaten, he wasn't broken.

She stopped at the edge of the dais, holding herself stiff and calm as she looked down at him. She knew she would have to play a delicate game. If she looked too concerned for Quinn's welfare, she could force Eric to have to retaliate in order to recover his honor, but she desperately wanted to know that he was all right. She gave him what she hoped was a sympathetic look, but one that was also a warning that he'd better play ball or else. Unfortunately, John Quinn wasn't one to play well with vampires.

"Well, at least he dressed you as the lady you are, and not his banger whore," Quinn spat, giving her gown a once over.

He was actually pleased with the dress, and he thought she looked wonderful in it, but the memory of the latex was too fresh in his mind, and he was very much a sore loser. She wanted to reply that Eric hadn't dressed her as a whore, but her bonded moved before she could open her mouth, and he slapped Quinn across the face hard enough to knock the big man over.

"You will not address my bonded in such a manner," Eric stated coldly.

Quinn growled and spat blood on the dais, further staining the dark red carpeting. Rasul grabbed Quinn under the arms and yanked him back up to his knees, ignoring Quinn's grunt of pain. She tried not to wince, and lightly fisted her hands into the folds of her gown.

_'Since when have you gotten so deep into bed with vamps that you don't care about their controlling shit?'_ Quinn's mental voice lanced into her brain. _'Is he that good of a fuck?'_

She wished Quinn was telepathic because then she could answer him silently and rip him a new one, but instead she had to stand there and take it as his thoughts grew decidedly more graphic and cruel. She understood that he was angry at her, at Eric, at the Nevada vamps, and mostly at himself, because he was realizing now that he'd been played, but there was no excuse for the horrible images and thoughts coming from his mind, spearing her right through the heart.

She'd thought she'd known him, might even have been able to love him, but now he was showing a side of himself that was ugly and vindictive. It wasn't her fault he'd been lied to or that Victor had tried to use him as a weapon against her and Eric. She'd already gleaned enough from him and Victor to realize that Victor was hoping to sow the seeds of dissent in her bond with Eric, to force her into a position where she would have to beg Eric for Quinn's life. Victor had wanted to pigeonhole her bonded into either appearing weak by sparing Quinn or jealous and hateful by killing him despite her pleas. She was so grateful that Eric was too smart for games like that or else the plan would have worked. Victor was also grossly underestimating her bond with Eric, as was Quinn.

While she could hide her growing upset and insult from most of the crowd, she couldn't keep Eric from feeling her pain (or hearing what Quinn was sending through their connection.) Once Quinn had graduated to much more personal attacks, mostly focused on her intelligence and soundness of judgment, Eric could no longer hold himself in check, and he slapped Quinn again, harder this time.

"I do not know what you are saying to my bonded, but whatever it is, it is upsetting her. You will cease," her Viking ordered.

Pretty much everyone knew she was a telepath, and that she and Eric could feel each other, so they would just assume that Eric had been sensing her distress through their blood bond.

Quinn snarled again and spit out more blood, making sure to spew some of it on the new plush chairs as Rasul plopped him back on his knees. His eyes glared pure hatred at them.

"I'd do as he says or he will break your jaw like he broke my brother's," she said coolly.

Inwardly, she was mortified and disgusted, but there was nothing she could do as long as they were all out in public. Eric _**had**_ to respond, but the fact that he hadn't already smashed Quinn's jaw or snapped his neck was proof that her vampire was pulling his blows.

"And you let him do that?" Quinn accused.

"He insulted me in the middle of Merlotte's, just like you are insulting me here in Fangtasia. I would expect no less from him in defending my honor."

Quinn scoffed. "As if that dress offered you any honor. You looked like a hooker at a wedding reception."

The use of the words "wedding reception" was deliberate. Quinn knew as well as she did that she and Eric were now mates according to vampire society, and the announcement/party was basically the vampire equivalent of a reception. The barb stung and Eric growled low in his throat, showing full fang. Quinn raised his head in defiance, expecting the blow and welcoming it even. She saw her Viking raise his hand, but she rested her fingers on his wrist, stopping him. The crowd gasped, but she smiled sweetly up at Eric, her face a picture of perfect calm.

"Eric, he is trying to force you to kill him. That way you will have to pay a large fine to our king for the loss of his revenue," she explained.

She felt Eric's relief at having an excuse not to strike. He hadn't wanted to kill Quinn, mostly because he didn't want to have to pay Nevada the sum they would claim the tiger was worth, but there was at least a little consideration for her feelings in there too… somewhere. Eric didn't care if Quinn died, but he certainly didn't want to be the one to do it – especially not in front of her.

He gave her an indulgent and proud smile. "As always you prove your value to me, my lover," he commented, placing his hand upon hers on his wrist, then told her comfortingly, knowing his patronizing tone had upset her, _'Just play along, Dear One. I know you hate this, but we must. Victor and Sandy are watching.'_

_'You owe me. You owe me big time for swallowing this crap instead of throwing a fit,'_ she sent back furiously.

_'Your prudence will save both of our lives.'_

_'Yeah, yeah, yeah.'_

Quinn barked a mirthless laugh. "See, he admits he only wants you for your _**value**_ to him. Really, Sookie, I thought you were better than that."

Eric growled again, but she squeezed her hand on his arm, silently begging him to be calm.

"I know my bonded's worth, which is more than I can say for you, shifter," he replied.

"It's obviously less than I thought it was if she was willing to go back to you," Quinne shot back.

She gasped and held back the tears that threatened, squeezing Eric's arm so tight she would have left bruises if he'd been a normal man. Eric's rage burned hot again, and she didn't think she could hold him back anymore as Quinn glared at them, daring Eric to do something.

"Go ahead, bloodsucker," the tiger taunted.

Eric snarled, but stayed where he was. "I won't kill you. I won't give you that satisfaction or pay you that mercy. What lies in store for you is far more unpleasant than any pain I could inflict upon you with my hands."

"No, but he doesn't need his jaw to fight in the Pits," Sandy interrupted coldly. "It would just mean that he wouldn't be able to bite, which would lower his odds, but gain us more money when others bet against him."

Quinn looked at Sandy with fury, but Sookie caught the brief moment of terror that flashed in his eyes. He hated the Pits, and he desperately did not want to go back to them. So far Nevada hadn't been forcing him to fight in order to pay off his debt, but after tonight's fiasco…

_'Eric, they're going to make him fight again…'_

He gave her a questioning look and her heart sank, but she tried again, _'They'll put him up against stronger and stronger opponents, and he'll die before he repays his debt. He's Victor's pawn in this. Victor knows I care about Quinn. He knows it'll hurt me if something bad happens to him, and I think it's my fault.'_

_'But it isn't your fault. You had nothing to do with this. He was the stupid asshole who crashed our party and started swinging.'_

_'Please, Eric. Isn't there anything you can do?'_ It was as close to pleading with him as she could get.

_'I have asked for compensation in money and labors,'_ her Viking replied with a mental sigh. _'It is possible that I can claim that I need him to perform some tasks for me.'_

_'Thank you.'_

_'But it will take some time to set things up. He will be on his own for a couple of months.' _"That may be so, but I will need him alive to perform the services I have planned for him, so I would request that our king be careful with him until he can be of use to me."

Sandy smirked, a knowing look in her eyes, and Sookie didn't like it. It was as if Sandy knew that Eric was trying to spare Quinn on her behalf, and the knowledge was a weapon Sandy (or Victor or Felipe) could use against them at a later date. All at once she understood the true depth of what Victor had done, and she didn't know how they would be able to get out of it.

_'You let me play this game, my lover. I am very good at it, and what Sandy thinks is a weakness now, she will soon learn is anything but,'_ Eric soothed.

_'I hate this part of your world.'_

_'There are nights when I hate it, too. Tonight is proving to be a particular… challenge.'_

"I will pass on your requests to our king. It will be his discretion to choose whether or not to honor them," Sandy answered.

Eric bowed. "Of course."

Sandy turned to her and looked at her expectantly. "Were you able to determine who told Mr. Quinn about tonight and urged him to come here and cause trouble?" Felipe's spokesperson asked her.

She made her face go blank and stony, and lied. "No. He doesn't know himself. It was an anonymous message."

_'So that's how you were able to lie to me when I asked you what you knew about Bill's project when he went missing,'_ her lover said with some admiration.

_'Why you lyin' for me there, Babe?' _Quinn asked, his mindvoice confused and chagrined. She winced at his use of the old pet name, but did not answer him. Maybe he was finally starting to understand what a huge jerk he'd been. Unfortunately, it was too little, too late.

"Hmm, that's too bad. Well, hopefully, the mystery will solve itself in time," Sandy commented in a voice that said no one was fooling her.

"Hopefully," Eric confirmed.

"I'll be in touch regarding the Misconduct hearing," the female vamp informed.

"Thank you."

Sandy nodded then looked at Rasul, giving him a silent signal. Rasul picked Quinn up from under his armpits and yanked him to his feet. Quinn stumbled, but regained his balance quickly as the guard dragged him off the dais. Eric raised his hand in a halt motion and Rasul stopped.

_'Forgive me, my lover, but this is expected of me, and Sandy has all but laid it out as a test of my authority,'_ he sent to her.

She swallowed hard and looked away as Eric smashed Quinn's jaw with a heavy blow. Luckily for Quinn, the punch also knocked him out, so he wasn't awake to feel the pain, and both Sandy and Victor gave her Viking approving looks as Quinn was hoisted like a bag of trash over Rasul's shoulder and carted out of the bar. Sandy followed, but Victor lagged behind for a moment.

"It was wonderful to see you again, Miss Stackhouse. You must come to New Orleans for a visit sometime soon," Victor said smoothly, a sly smile on his lips.

Eric put his hands on her shoulders and let out a low growl over her head, but Victor just laughed and sauntered out.

_'Oh we'll go to New Orleans all right, but he won't like what happens to him when we get there,'_ he sent with a murderous edge to his mindvoice that made her shudder.

Once Sandy, Victor and Rasul were gone, taking the unconscious Quinn with them, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. She hadn't realized how stressed and worried the Area Five vamps were when the Nevada vamps were around.

Although the evening was essentially ruined for her, and she wanted nothing more than to get out of there and have a good cry, she knew she couldn't. The party wasn't over, and there were appearances to uphold, so she sucked it up, swallowed the urge to scream and sob, and put on a brave face. Eric bolstered her with his strength as he put one arm around her and began barking orders to his staff. She found that she was too emotionally exhausted to fight and just let him do whatever it was he was going to do. In short order, the bloodstained carpet on the dais was ripped off and replaced with a section taken from the leftover remnants, and the soiled chair was draped with a clean tablecloth for a temporary fix.

When the dais was ready, he ushered her onto it and sat her down in the seat that hadn't been stained. The action was deliberate, sparing her the mortification of knowing she was sitting on Quinn's blood, and for that she was grateful. Eric sat beside her and waved a hand, indicating that the party should continue as if nothing had happened, and the DJ struck up a peppy dance tune. Pam brought her a plate of food – which was saying something because the vampess disliked the smell of cooked meat – and a gin and tonic, and the whole scene felt like she was being placated and "handled."

Now that the "outsiders" were gone, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Eric felt more comfortable loosening up a little bit and coddling her a little more overtly. He held her hand and nuzzled her often, being overtly caring and affectionate towards her, and even the other Area Five vamps seemed to be more friendly as they came around to offer their fealty to her and Eric. She appreciated the effort, even if most of them were only doing it to curry Eric's favor. She didn't mind being a bit coddled and fussed over because she was feeling raw and exposed. Exposed. Hah. She'd almost forgotten that nearly everyone in the bar had seen her naked less than an hour ago.

_'Pam covered you quickly so they got a brief peek at most, and they certainly didn't see anything they haven't seen before,'_ her Viking consoled.

_'Is that supposed to make me feel better?'_

He gave her a sheepish look. _'Yes? Besides, now everyone will know how magnificent your breasts are, and they will be jealous.'_

She rolled her eyes and laughed in spite of herself. Trust Eric to distract her with a wholly inappropriate comment involving sex. He smiled in that dashing way of his that told her that he'd done it on purpose, and some of her misery lifted.

"Mistress Sookie?" Indira said hesitantly, and both her and Eric turned their heads to see the small Indian vampire holding a shiny red box with a bow on it.

"Yes, Indira," Eric replied, one eyebrow raised.

Indira hesitantly offered her the box, and she saw that it was an assortment of gourmet chocolates. Where had the vampire gotten a box of chocolates at this hour of the night?

"I got these for you. I've been told that this candy makes human women feel better," Indira explained.

She reached forward and accepted the box, surprised and humbled. "Thank you, Indria. That was very thoughtful of you."

The Indian vampire bowed, but not before giving Eric a questioning look and getting a nod of approval from him. She smiled at her master and happily returned to her position by the bar, giving Felicia a beaming grin. Sookie held in the laugh as she watched Felicia give her friend a discrete thumbs-up.

"If I didn't know better, my lover, I would think those two were trying to curry your favor," Eric commented with amusement.

She opened the box and plucked out one of the small pieces, popping it into her mouth.

"Is it good?" her Viking asked.

"Vanilla Crème. Yum. Consider my favor curried."

"I'll be sure to tell those two conspirators since they seem so interested in it."

She was going to reply when Calvin Norris appeared at the edge of the dais. He inclined his head to Eric and then to her.

"Calvin," she said.

"Miss Sookie. I'll be heading out. I must admit, Northman, you throw the most… eventful parties," the werepanther replied.

Eric gave the shifter an indulgent smile. "One of these nights, you will attend one of my parties where nothing gets broken and no one dies."

Calvin tipped his hat to her bonded and smiled. "That might be something to see."

"Thank you for coming," Eric said.

Calvin nodded then tipped his hat to her. "Be seein' you Miss Sookie. Take care."

"You too, Calvin. Be safe."

With a final nod and smile, Calvin made his exit, and several other shifters and Weres left shortly thereafter, each coming to offer their congratulations and good-byes. Eric treated each one with the deference that a king would offer to his subjects, thanking them for coming and wishing them well. His antics were lifting her mood a little more, although she was still feeling very down and rattled. Discrete peeks to the clock behind the bar told her that Last Call would be in ten minutes, and she really couldn't wait for two am so she and Eric could go home.

_'Yes, my lover, I cannot wait to get you back to our Ruston nest,'_ he sent, his thoughts laced with love and desire.

_'If you think I'll be in the mood after the disaster that was tonight, you are truly delusional.'_ Delusional. It had been a Word of the Day.

He huffed and looked sulky, but she was already seeing the flitting thoughts going through his head as he tried to figure out ways to improve his chances of getting laid. His whirling mind made her smile a little, but that only made him look hopefully at her.

"I think it would acceptable for us to leave early if that was what you desired," he told her gently.

She gave him a pleading look. "Please?"

He smiled at her and rose to his feet, never letting go of her hand, and raising it to his lips to kiss the back of her palm as she stood up as well, then he slipped her arm in his and led her off the dais. He didn't speak to anyone or offer any explanation as to why they were leaving, but he did give a nod to Pam as they passed. They breezed by his office to pick up her purse and bag of clothes (including the tablecloth she'd worn – she'd bled on it and wanted to wash it clean despite Eric's protests,) and they were in his car before the clock on the dashboard read 1:42.

Since they never took the Corvette to the Ruston nest, they went to his house in the affluent South Highlands neighborhood to drop off his car. There she waited for him to retrieve the Taurus from the Shreveport garage where it was stored when they weren't in Ruston, and he picked her up out front a few minutes later. She had no fear of anyone seeing the car or following them because Eric always did a very thorough sweep of the street before he brought the car around.

She was quiet on the way to Ruston. The Ford had a more comfortable ride than the Corvette with plusher seats and a better suspension, and it had a quieter engine. Eric left the stereo off, and the silence allowed her to clear her head and try to deal with all that had happened. Slowly, she allowed herself to relax, releasing the tension that had been holding her upright and smiling, and her shoulders sagged with fatigue. With the release of her carefully cultivated mask came the tears, finally able to make their way down her face in silent rivers as Eric drove through the dark streets of Shreveport to the interstate. To his credit, he didn't question why she was crying or try to stop her. He only reached out to hold her hand and rubbed her palm in comforting little circles with his thumb.

She sighed and enjoyed the silence, both physical and mental because he'd been kind and put up some shields to keep his thoughts from leaking out. The effort was so small but so appreciated.

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes and letting her head roll back to the head restraint on the seat.

"Anything for you, my lover."

She wasn't feeling quite as battered or worn out as she had after the Witch War or the St. Catherine Were War, or even the bombing in Rhodes, but she was feeling the need to detach from everything, and she needed Eric to be the strong one because right now she was out of Supergirl powers as everything hit her. In hindsight she was amazed that she'd managed to hold it together for as long as she did after everything she'd been through.

The exploding dress would almost have been funny if Quinn hadn't been the one who broke it, and even that wouldn't have been so bad if Quinn and Eric hadn't gotten into a huge fight afterwards. At least Eric hadn't killed Quinn; she didn't know what she would have done if he had, but that was a small consolation all things considered.

"Quinn made his choices," Eric said softly.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, more tears falling.

"He was a stupid asshole to believe the things Victor told him. He should have known better," he continued a little more firmly.

"I know, but that doesn't change anything."

"In a way it does. If you understand that, you can move on and focus your energies on the real problem, which is Victor. Tonight's entire fiasco was one big distraction orchestrated by Victor to sow dissention and strife between us. He set all of us up, including the tiger."

"Well it worked. I'm pretty dissented and Quinn took the brunt of everything," she snapped peevishly. "Who knows if he'll even be alive in six months?"

"I am sorry about the tiger. I will do what I can for him."

"Why? It isn't like you care about what happens to him." It was an ungracious thing to say, but at the moment she didn't care.

Eric shrugged, but didn't take the bait. "Overall, you're right. I don't care, but you care, and, because it is important to you, that makes it important to me. Besides, weretigers are rare and getting rarer. I don't necessarily want Quinn dead, but I do think he should focus more on finding a tigress to pass on his genes rather than chasing after you."

She snorted. "Somehow I doubt he'll be chasing after me ever again."

"I heard some of the things he sent to you. They were despicable, even for him. He was trying to hurt you."

"I know."

"You should not believe anything he said. You are beautiful, and brave, and smart, and deserving of respect. I would not hold you in such high regard or love you so much if you were not worthy of me."

There was very little she could say to that so she kept her mouth shut.

"I got three addresses out of Victor," she finally said, changing the subject.

Eric nodded. "We should get a map of New Orleans and pinpoint their locations. It is not unusual for a vampire to have a secret hiding place somewhere near the center of his territory. I doubt you got all of his nests, but we'll try to get more every time we see him, and I will correspond the addresses with likely hiding places."

She grimaced at the thought of going into Victor's head, but agreed, "Okay."

She knew it was necessary, but the vamp was a cesspool, and she was fast growing to hate him. His scheming had almost gotten her and Eric killed twice, and now Quinn was going to suffer the agony of the Pits because of him. Eric could barely wait to kill him, and she was discovering that she felt the same way.

They were almost to Ruston, and her heart started beating a little faster as Eric turned the Ford onto the long driveway. She was surprised when he stopped the car on the lane, turning it off, and looked at her.

_'Do you trust me?'_ he asked suddenly.

The question seemed odd for him, and she was taken back for a moment.

"Of course I trust you. You know I do," she replied, looking at him.

He looked pleased with her answer and leaned over to kiss her tenderly. "Then I want you to do as I ask. Please?"

His tone of voice, and the expression on his face, told her that all of his masks had come off as well, and she was seeing the essential Eric, the Eric who was very close to the one she had known and loved when he was under Hallow's curse. She'd noticed that that had been happening more and more often when they came to the Ruston nest. It was as if he treated the house as a place where he could drop the persona of the master vampire (mostly) and just be Eric, and it was this Eric who was speaking to her now.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, looking deep into his blue eyes. He was so beautiful when he was like this, and it thrilled her to know that he trusted her enough to show her this side of himself.

"I want you to leave it all here. Don't bring it into our Ruston nest," he replied.

"What?" she said, not having any idea what he was talking about."

He seemed frustrated and he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"This place is our secret sanctuary. It is the one place in all of Louisiana where we can be safe and escape the insanity that is our lives," he explained gently with a touch of sorrow in his voice. "I don't want it tainted with the bad things that happened tonight. I want us to leave all of it here on the lane, and we can pick it back up when we leave if you want to."

She stared at him for a good twenty seconds, speechless, before she found her voice. "So you want me to just forget about all the badness that went down tonight?"

"No. I want you to leave it here."

She shook her head, completely confused. "I don't know how we can do that."

"I do," he answered.

He popped the trunk and got out of the car, walking around to the rear of the Taurus. She waited, uncertain, as he took something out of the trunk, and, when he came around to her side, she saw that he was carrying a large jar full of something red.

"Get out of the car, Dear One," he said and she obeyed, standing with him in the darkness on the gravel lane. His eyes were bright in the blackness, but there was no anger or fear in them, only quiet determination.

"What is that?" she asked, indicating the jar.

He unscrewed the lid, and she reached in to feel the contents. She gasped when she realized what it was.

"The latex dress…" she breathed.

"What's left of it," he confirmed.

"Did you get the piece that was in Calvin's beer?" she blurted.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I have no idea. Indira collected the scraps for me."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Right now? Right now I am going to bury it here on the edge of the driveway," he answered.

She blinked at him. "Why?"

"Because I am not going to bring it, and the embarrassment and pain it caused you, into our sanctuary. This nest is our _hov_. It is our sacred place. I am going to leave the things that would soil it here. I'll unbury them and take them with us when we go, but I am not tainting our nest with it," he explained.

"Oh," she said as she watched him screw the lid onto the jar and go to a spot near the base of a large loblolly pine, then he dug a hole deep enough to bury the jar and dropped it in.

"Is there anything you'd like me to bury with it?" he asked her, still crouched down by the hole.

"Eric… doing that won't make it all go away, and it isn't like we haven't brought the situation with Victor here before. I don't understand what purpose doing this will serve. It isn't going to make me forget all the terrible things that happened tonight," she argued.

"I know," he stated simply, his voice resigned. "But it's never cut so close before. Even the assassins that tried to kill us… we didn't know them. Tonight Victor tried to use someone you knew and cared about against you, against us, and that makes it personal."

"It was personal before."

He shook his head. "Not like this. You know as well as I do what would have happened to us if I'd killed Quinn tonight. It would have cut a wound across both of our souls that might never have healed. That was what Victor was hoping to do to us."

He was right, and she stood there, her arms hanging limp at her sides as she looked down at him. Fresh tears started anew, and she felt the weight of everything bearing down upon her shoulders. The danger, the death, the conniving of the master vampires, the horror of believing someone she loved would die…

"Please," he whispered. "You wanted me to be the strong one. That's what I'm trying to do."

She looked at him, trying to understand why he was doing what appeared to be a stupid and pointless exercise.

"You are trying to protect me, to shield me from your world," she said finally, having a bit of a revelation.

"I would be a bad mate if I did not try to protect you from the things that I know you hate," he answered. "I know it hurts you to have to do some of the things you must do in order to ensure our safety. Can you blame me for wanting to take you away from all of that, if only for a short time?"

She sighed. It was close to freezing in the middle of a November night, she was dressed in a satin gown that did nothing to keep out the cold, she'd been run through the emotional wringer more than once in the past two hours, she was exhausted, and she really did not want to deal.

"Eric… It's late and I'm tired. I was paraded around like a prize cow, my dress exploded, I was left alone with a vampire who wants me as his possession and you dead, and you almost had to kill my ex-boyfriend," she said to him, her voice weary. "I really don't think…"

"Remember how we promised to make this bonding easy for us as much as possible, because the rest of the world was going to make it so hard?" he interrupted, reminding her of the conversation they'd had on the flight back from Isle Elena. "If we bring this with us to our sacred nest, we allow the world, and all of its ugliness, to damage our safe place."

"Eric…"

"It's the place where _**we**_ are easy," he said. "Where there are no enemies lurking in the dark, no scheming, no political maneuvering. It's the place we are just _**us**_. Do you really want to desecrate our _hov_ by bringing all of this shit into it with you?"

As he spoke, his eyes getting wider and whiter (she hadn't seen soulful puppy dog eyes on him since Hallow's curse, but it still looked just as wrong), she was reminded of an old story she'd read about a run down man who used to put all of his worries on the Worry Tree outside his house, so he wouldn't burden his family with his anxieties. He'd just brush the branches as he passed to leave them, and then brushed the branches again to pick them back up on the way out.

Eric was essentially asking her to do the same thing – to put all the horrors and awful trouble they'd had that night into the hole with the wreckage of the dress. He wanted to guard the only place where they could be themselves. How could she fault him for wanting to protect their little sanctuary? It wasn't like he was thinking that they could just bury all the crap and forget about it. He just wanted them to keep from polluting their special place, like calling a time out or leaving shoes at the door to keep the dirt from getting in.

When she looked at it that way, how could she blame him for asking her to bury her anger and hate and upset with what was left of the dress? The answer was, she couldn't.

Nodding and wiping her eyes, she went over to the trunk and pulled out the tablecloth from the bag of clothes she'd transferred from the Corvette. She brought it over to Eric, crouched down beside her mate and shoved the bloodstained material into the hole. He closed his eyes in gratitude and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, my lover. Now we will bury them and leave all of their insanity and danger behind us," he said as he began to cover the jar and the cloth with handfuls of loose soil. "They will still be here waiting for us, but we will unbury them when _**we**_ are ready to deal with them. Until then, they will stay here, and we will not be troubled by them in our private place."

The way he said "private" made her shiver, but she was still not in the mood.

"Eric… I'm still not going to want to have sex tonight. The only thing I want is a shower to get the talcum and Vaseline off of me, and then I want to go to bed," she warned. "I'll even sleep in my room if you want me to."

She really didn't want to sleep alone, but if he couldn't keep his hands off of her, it might be for the best. She heard him snort just before he put his arms around her and brought them both back into a standing position.

"Then I will run you a bath and bathe you clean of all the dried sweat and blood and caked powder," he whispered, holding her and stroking her hair tenderly. "Then I will lave those scratches on your sides with my blood until they are healed. And if, after all of that, all you still want to do is sleep, then I will gather you close to me and hold you while you dream."

He kissed her hair as she trembled, and she felt loved and cherished.

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome, my lover."

She pulled back and kissed him, trying to express her gratitude and love all in one gesture, and he returned the kiss with zeal.

_'I love you,'_ she told him, sighing into his mouth.

_'I love you too, my lover,'_ he replied. _'So very much.'_

She smiled, feeling better already, and stepped away in order to look up at him. Eric smiled back at her, his blue eyes warm and happy.

"Let's go home," she said, earning her an even wider smile from her mate.

"Yes, let's."

He took her hand and guided her back to the Ford, holding the door for her as she lowered herself into the seat, then he got back into the car and started the engine, taking them the rest of the way down the lane to their little secret hideaway from the crazy world of Supe politics. Neither of them looked back.

FIN


End file.
